My name is Christopher and I live here.

Hey America, look what we still have!

November 8, 1986 - January 11, 2013

Mark Zuckerberg @ Disrupt SF 2012. (via tobie)

Context, people.

Good times, they were had. /cc @maurice360five @jaykapa #raybowedding (Taken with Instagram at Eglinton Grand Theatre)

For that frequent flyer in your life. (Taken with Instagram at Skymall)

All those things you’ve always wanted to do… (Taken with Instagram)

Big Bang Mugs (Taken with Instagram)

Into the woods we go. (Taken with Instagram)

Power Grid! (Taken with Instagram)

It’s time. (Taken with Instagram)

Big Bang Tees, The 2012 Edition (Taken with Instagram)

Fancy (Taken with Instagram)

Not too shabby. (Taken with Instagram)

Just an ordinary day? (Taken with Instagram at Drake Underground)

jackcheng:

I’ve spent my nights and weekends these past three years writing a novel. It’s about a guy who designs fake computer interfaces and a girl who doesn’t own a cellphone. If you enjoyed essays of mine like The Slow Web and Habit Fields, I think you’ll find a lot to love about this book.

But first I need your help. I recently finished a new draft of the manuscript and now I’m raising money to hire an editor and publish a hardcover version of the book. I made a short (2 minute) video about it, and you can see the video and back the project on the Kickstarter page.

Working on this book has been an incredible learning experience for me, and I look forward to sharing it with you.

You had me at novel.

Done.

Personalised notes from your coffee supplier: never a bad thing! /cc @ethicalcoffee @sabbatical (Taken with Instagram)

All the Earthquakes Since 1898

(With a Richter Scale reading of 4.0 and greater.)

As imagined by me in 2008.  

These are e-mails I exchanged with a friend a few years ago.  I thought it’d be good to record this somewhere for posterity.

Tuesday, 13 May, 2008 3:22:10 PM

So, I had this brilliant idea today while driving to work. (Unfortunately, as I’ve noticed in the past, people usually think of the same things that I think of.) This idea in particular has to do with automobile automation - cars that drive themselves, basically.

Of course, I don’t really have the know-how to design something like this, but maybe you do.

We should talk, so we can figure out what to do with the millions (billions?) we’re going to make.

Chris

——

Tuesday, 13 May, 2008 5:30:09 PM

Drat. I knew it was too good to be a new idea.

On the other hand, my approach would be a little different. Also, did I mention that it kind of incorporates ideas that you’re working with?

The problem with the system that you sent me is that it relies on a central server. Ideally, each unit would be self-contained. Thus, using GPS info, maps, regularly updated traffic information, information that it would receive from traffic lights in it’s vicinity and finally, other cars nearby, it would be able to navigate successfully.

By other information from other cars, I mean things like: “I am traveling at x speed”, “I am breaking”, “I am signaling a turn.”, &c.  All of this would be readily available to all vehicles nearby and could be used to create a mesh network of sorts.

Make sense?

——

Wednesday, 14 May, 2008 11:06:40 AM

Yeah, I figured that the central server was the result of the restraints of the system. Of course, maybe their plan is to eventually move to a scenario where all the units are self-sustained/contained. I think that’s ideal, anyway. Obviously, the biggest problem with the server approach is that you’re screwed if the server goes down.

My mesh network suggestion (in theory) could make up for that by allowing each vehicle to access just the right amount of information it needs. In a sense, it’s like what you’re doing with the cell towers - there’s information being passed around, but it’s not always complete for reasons like distance from point of origin, disturbance, &c. But in this case, every vehicle wouldn’t need to know about every other vehicle in the world / country / state / city / neighbourhood - only those in it’s immediate vicinity.

Imagine a grid of nine vehicles (3x3). The vehicle in the centre really only needs to worry about the eight surrounding it as long as each of the eight surrounding cars are, in turn, worrying about the eight surrounding them. However, because each car would be sending a signal, the vehicle in the centre of the original grid still *knows* the other cars exist. It’s just not worried about what they’re doing until they get close enough to effect it’s movement. (Of course, the grid might have to be larger than nine in a real-life situation, but this keeps it simple.) Thus, even if one car a kilometre down the line begins to stall, the vehicle behind it would adjust it’s speed / course and thus trigger the appropriate measures down the line in every vehicle behind it.

Of course, this is again an idealised situation, with every car having a transmitter. To allow for cars that don’t have a transmitter, or have limits to how much information they can transmit because they’re older models, you would need to have three levels of communication:

1. Non-existent

Car X does not have a transmitter. Car Y, which does, would have to compensate by guessing it’s movement, speed, &c. Perhaps this could be done using things like the car’s magnetic field, like those traffic lights that only change once a car is actually at the light.

2. Passive

Car X has a transmitter, but it is an older car and cannot give the transmitter information like how fast it is moving. In this case, Car Y’s transmitter would use the strength of Car X’s signal to make its calculations. (All transmitters have the same strength of signal.) However, certain things like make, max speed, &c, could be hard coded into the signal.

3. Active

This is the ideal situation. Car X is constantly transmitting a signal that continuously updates with it’s current speed, lane change decisions/requests, &c. Car Y would be able to receive all this information and process it accordingly.

I guess I should clarify the the idea of transmitting and receiving. All communication is, in a sense, one way. There is no back-and-forth between the two vehicles. This would to a certain extent, disallow manipulation from people with bad intentions. (Of course, if you hacked your own car, you could cause some trouble, but the trouble would stop at the cars surrounding you, as they’d still transmit the correct information.) Also, right of way is always observed - if someone needs to change lanes in front of you, your car will always allow them to do so.

The whole idea behind this is to give cars the information that we get by looking around us. In a sense, each car would be saying “I am here at this position, I am moving this fast, I need to switch lanes now, I need to take the next exit, &c, &c.”

Similarly, in the case of traffic signals, railway crossings, and cross walks, the signal itself would transmit information like “I am currently green, but I will be changing in x seconds.” which would allow cars to adjust their speed accordingly.

Chris

Joel Feinberg, in his article entitled “The Expressive Function of Punishment”, describes what he believes are the two aspects of punishment: hard treatment and reprobation. Feinberg argues that in order for any punishment to truly “fit the crime”, it is only right that the hard treatment inflicted on the criminal – fines, imprisonment, &c. – be as minimal as is socially permissible while the reprobation – public disapproval, condemnation, &c. – be scaled according to the seriousness of the offence. This paper discusses Feinberg’s reasons for this conclusion and how it in turn affects his opinion of the retributive approach to punishment.

Traditionally, punishment is defined as “hard treatment” inflicted on someone for a (perceived) crime (630). But as Feinberg points out, most attempts at defining punishment do not seem to account for the great variance in the kinds of hard treatment regularly used; they fail to note, for example, the tangible difference between more severe punishments, like imprisonment, and lighter ones, like fines. Thus upon closer examination, we see that there are actually two kinds of punishment: punishment proper, and what Feinberg terms a “penalty” (629-630).

But what is it in particular that makes a penalty different? Feinberg suggests, and rejects in turn, two options. First, it could be thought that penalties are merely punishments of the less severe sort. This is not always true, though, as it is certainly conceivable to think of penalties that can cause more harm than punishments (630). We could also, on the other hand, consider penalties to be what Feinberg calls “price-tags” or “licensing fees” paid after the fact for certain activities. This idea, while plausible, fails to account for the fact that some penalties – like parking fines – are meant to be approached with all seriousness, and are as a result, “more than mere public parking fees” (630). We find ourselves, then, still unable to draw a clear, distinguishing line between punishments and penalties. Perhaps a better approach to this issue would be to look at what makes a punishment “worse” than a penalty (630). Of course, it is understood that both are meant to deprive the offnder of something as a result of a past action. But, it would seem that only punishments carry with them a sort of symbolic disapproval. Feinberg proposes to call this public disavowal of a person and their actions the reprobative aspect of punishment (630). And so, we arrive at a more complete de?nition of punishment proper as hard treatment that is accompanied by a strong sense of disapprobation. ¹

Defining punishment and identifying what sets it apart from a penalty, however, also brings to light a further complication: it is not always easy to separate the reprobation from the hard treatment. Consider the sentencing of a person for a decidedly horrible crime, like rape. In such situations, it could be said that hard treatment is in fact the “conventional symbol” of our society’s reprobation (631). Thus, Feinberg asserts, it is necessary to account for and justify both reprobation and hard treatment in any definition of punishment if our judgements are to be truly fair. Furthermore, a failure to do so will also lead to failings like those he ?nds in a particular form of the retributive theory of punishment (630).

Feinberg attempts to offer a two-fold argument to address the concerns of those who would deny the justi?cation of either the reprobation or the hard treatment. The reprobative aspect is necessary because it allows for disavowal (society’s distancing itself from the criminal), non-acquiescence (the voicing of explicit objection to the criminal’s actions), vindication (the affrmation of the laws of the land and victims), and absolution (the clearing of any innocent suspects) as aspects, all of which are necessary for the proper functioning of any system of justice (632-633). To those who would challenge the hard treatment, on the other hand, Feinberg’s answer is less forceful. In fact, he goes so far as to admit that it is possible to think of a future where reprobation alone would be as much punishment as a crime would require, especially when we consider that we, as a society, already prefer punishments that are far less severe than those used in times past (638).

While willing to concede that some sort of ?tting punishment is a necessary, Feinberg explains that he still finds one usual answer to the question of hard treatment – that form of the retributive theory which calls for a pain-fitting-wickedness response – troubling, and others what he calls “the familiar and potent objections to this view” (638-639). Any system of legal justice is, presumably, designed to punish the guilty and preserve the innocent from undue suffering. And yet, the latter is what invariably happens any time a guilty person is convicted and sentenced: “it is impossible to hurt an evil man without imposing suffering on those who love or depend on him” (638). This is unacceptable, and grates against our intuitions of what true justice should be. It might be suggested that the best way to remedy this is to take more care in sentencing, but as Feinberg is quick to point out, the practical implications of tailoring every sentencing and judgement to the criminal (by taking into account intentions, motives, success, past history, suffering caused, &c.) makes such an enterprise impossible (638-339).

Where does this leave us, then, in trying to determine how much to punish a criminal? Feinberg offers a few guidelines in conclusion. In a truly fair system of justice, it is the “condemnatory aspect” of punishment that needs to ?t the crime, with more terrible deeds garnering more severe reprobation (639). The hard treatment on the other hand, should only be scaled to the crime inasmuch as it is the conventional form of expressing said reprobation (639). And while the two will be, of course, eternally linked, it would not do to increase the amount of hard treatment simply for the sake of the pain it will cause. To do so would be to completely undermine the idea of the justice we seek to express.

¹ Feinberg actually goes even further, separating the reprobative aspect from resentment, which is the “various vengeful attitudes” society holds when it is witness to a crime. Condemnation, then, becomes the “fusing of resentment and reprobation” (631-632).

Keeping Attempted and Successful Crimes Separate ¹

While there is consensus on the necessity of punishing criminal offences, there continues to be some dissonance on the issue of how much we should punish those actually convicted of serious crimes like murder.  This paper is an attempt to better understand the various views on this issue, with a special focus on the reasons offered to reform our current system of differentiating between attempted and successful crimes.  Finally, we will look at reasons offered in refutation to this suggested reform with the hope of determining if this problem is as grave as has been suggested.

Justice, we are told, requires punishment in order to remain justice.  But is this necessarily so?  Surprisingly, both major schools of thought on issues of crime and punishment have reached consensus on this issue, though their reasons for agreeing are quite different.  The utilitarian, as explained by Joel Feinberg, believes that while punishment, in and of itself is never good, it is justifiable when “it is a means to such future goods as correction (reform) of the offender, protection of society against other offences from the same offender, and deterrence of other would-be offenders” (The Classic Debate, 627).  Ultimately, it is a matter of greatest social utility; if punishment is the way to achieve the “most good or the least harm to all those who will be affected by it”, then it is the viable option (627).  Retributivists on the other hand, believe that punishment is the appropriate response to the moral failing of a criminal, with the right amount of punishment being “that amount which fits, matches, or is proportionate to the moral gravity of the offence” (625).  And in such cases, moral guilt is  not only necessary, but also sufficient to justify punishment, regardless of the consequences (625).

Arising from this agreement on the necessity of punishment, we see that guidelines have been created in most (if not all) nations that speak to how crimes are to be recompensed.  A person convicted of murder, for example, might be sentenced to death or to a number of years in prison that make up what is often called a ‘life sentence’.  And as is often the case, crimes considered more abhorrent are punished with more severity. This methodology has for the most part remained unchallenged, but in recent discourse on punishment, some have pointed out an apparent rift between both utilitarian and retributivist philosophy on justice and how sentencing is carried out.

Consider, if you will, two criminals: Alpha and Beta.  (Variably, these two are also known by other unfortunate monikers such as ‘Dum’ and ‘Dee’ or ‘A1’ and ‘A2’ and the like, depending on the literature.)  Both Alpha and Beta are planning on murdering their respective spouses with the hopes of marrying their mistresses once the gruesome tasks are complete.  Co-incidentally, both also hope to accomplish the above by shooting their significant other while they sleep.   In fact, they both, as far as can be determined, have the same motive, the same intentions, and the same desire to see the act completed.  Alpha successfully completes his plan, but the gunshot is overheard by a neighbour.  The police are summoned and justice  is allowed to take its course.  Beta, similarly, enters his bedroom one night, aims the gun at his wife’s sleeping figure and fires.  At that very moment, however, his wife chose to roll over.  That slight, unexpected action – an intervention of what is often called ‘Moral Luck’ – resulted in Beta missing his wife.² His narrative, then, rejoins that of Alpha’s, with similar actions from neighbours, the police, and justice.  Once due process is fulfilled, we find Alpha sentenced to life in prison for first degree murder.  Beta, on the other hand, is sentenced to some lesser number of years in prison after being convicted of attempted murder.  It is at this point that our questioning philosopher – let us call him ‘the Reformist’ – raises his hand in objection.

The Reformist’s position, elegantly described by Joel Feinberg in his paper, “Equal Punishment for Failed Attempts: Some Bad but Instructive Arguments Against It”, takes aim at the discrepancy between why we claim to punish crimes and how we actually punish them: “the legal system which countenanced it is not committed to the principle of proportionality, which requires that the severity of the punishment be proportional to the moral blameworthiness of the offence” (118).  This is, of course, meant to speak directly to the retributivist, who feels moral blameworthiness is enough to condemn a person.  The utilitarian, however, must also acquiesce given that she desires to use punishment for the aforementioned correction, protection, and deterrence.  Ultimately, Feinberg concludes, because persons who fail to attain the desired consequence of their criminal actions are just as morally blameworthy as those who succeed, our system of punishment needs to be reformed to equalise the sentences given to those convicted of either by increasing the penalty for attempted crimes, or reducing the penalty for successful ones (121-122).  Finally, Feinberg also suggests that a change in terminology might be necessary to do away with the cultural associations of terms like “murder” and “attempted murder” (119).  This would, we are assured, leave us with a justice system that truly punishes the moral guilt of a criminal while also accomplishing the greatest social utility.

There has been, as Feinberg notes, much critical reaction to the Reformist position.  He finds this puzzling, and discusses two arguments that seek to refute his stance.  The first wishes to simply do away with the idea of attempted crimes all together on the thesis that, as far as Feinberg can ascertain, harmless crimes, though perhaps distasteful, are not the responsibility of the state as far as their punishment is concerned (122).  Feinberg quick dismisses this as illogical: “it does not follow that unsuccessful attempts to perform an act of a type that is very harmful (like murder, for example) should not be criminalised” (122-123).  The second argument, from “Democratic Consensus”, suggests that the idea of attempted and successful crimes are ingrained in our society’s way of thinking.  As such, these ideas should be preserved for the sake of the the layman, instead of risking his alienating when we try and do away with the concept of harm playing a role in the conviction of crimes (125).  Feinberg dismisses this position as well, but it is in this second argument that I believe there is a hint at why most people react adversely to the Reformist’s position.  The remainder of this paper will be spent discussing the reasons for said reaction to see if they might play any significant role in preserving our current system of punishment.

Judith Thomson, who Feinberg mentions in passing in his paper, has offered her thoughts on this issue in her essay, “The Decline of Cause”.  And although she does not deal with murder and attempted murder, her discussion of consequences is most enlightening.  Thomson points out that the Reformist’s position is actually the fruition of Kant’s ideas concerning intention: “The good will is not good because of what it effects or accomplishes… it is good only because of its willing….Usefulness or fruitlessness can neither diminish nor augment [its] worth” (Thomson, quoting Kant, 142).  This is, as Thomson rightly concedes, a very intuitive position; most would agree that our intentions should play a role in how our actions are interpreted.  But should they be the only deciding factor, to the omission of all else? Thomson disagrees, using the example of two truck drivers – ‘Unlucky Fault Driver’ (UFD) and ‘Unlucky No Fault Driver’ (UNFD) – who, unfortunately, cause the death of a child while driving, to prove her point.  UNFD, we are told, hit the child as he suddenly darted out from between two cars – there was nothing more he could have done to prevent the crime.  UFD, on the other hand, was driving with bad brakes.  As a result, he could have actually stopped before hitting the child in front of him, were his brakes in order.  After considering these two, Thomson points out that while UNFD was doubly unlucky to have the child dart out and not be able to stop the truck in time, UFD was only unlucky in having the child dart out.  His being unable to brake had nothing to do with luck: it was his fault, even though he certainly did not intend to kill anyone as he left the depot (145).  This is an example, Thomson concludes, in which actions or the lack thereof (namely, UFD’s negligence) should play a pivotal role in our decision to condemn him and the consequences of his decisions despite the incursion of moral luck.

Let us now consider the relationship between intentions, actions and consequences from another angle.  John Gardner, in his paper, “The Gist of Excuses”, demonstrates quite aptly that while intentions, once we know them, can indeed affect how we interpret someone’s actions, generally speaking the law sees actions as the direct result of intentions that aimed to accomplish said actions (604-605).  Gardner describes this using the example of cowardice:  “there is no such thing as a cowardly action which does not show its agent in a cowardly light.  It is true that a cowardly light maybe a rather unflattering light…But an unflattering light is not the same as a false light” (605).  To this point, I do not see the Reformist posing any objections.  It would, I suspect, probably add some weight to his cause for punishing Beta’s attempted action as the result of an intention to kill.  But if we take Gardner’s thoughts, add them to those of Thomson, and consider another example of attempt and success we are left with results that the Reformist might have some trouble accepting.

For the sake of consistency, let us once again think of Alpha and Beta.  In this example, however, they are still young and single, and competing against each other in a university track and field meet.  Their event is the 100 metre dash.  The gun has sounded and both of them are off to an excellent start, running head to head.  In fact, as they near the finish line, it appears that they are actually going to tie for first place.  But, just a few feet before crossing the finish line, Beta trips and finds himself the second to cross the finish line.  As the results are about to be announced, however, Beta quickly rushes to the judges and makes the following case:  “I have,” he argues, “shown the same intent, desire, and motive as Alpha in my racing.”  “I prepared just as hard and ran just as skilfully.”  “In fact, it was merely a matter of luck that a pebble was sitting at the very position I placed my foot before I tripped and fell.”  “And so, I would request that I still be given the gold medal along with Alpha.”  At this point, any judge, or observer for that matter (and dare I say, the Reformist as well), would dismiss Beta’s request as either a joke or lunacy.  The fact of the matter is that he, regardless of reason, did not cross the finish line first, and as a result, cannot lay claim to the gold medal.  And yet, in essence, is this not what the Reformist has asked us to do?  Furthermore, if this is how society on the whole operates, rewarding successful actions and not just the intention to be successful, why should our reasons for punishment be any different?

I will add two final points to my discussion of this issue.  Firstly, all the examples used in the literature on the subject of attempted and successful crimes work on the basis of two similar crimes.  This approach, I feel, has clouded the issue.  There will never be a situation where two such similar crimes, where intentions, motives, desires, and actions are the same, could occur.  As such, when we consider the work of either Alpha or Beta on its own, the crimes would take on a completely different light, and we would, I believe, be loathe to grant Beta a severely harsh sentence, or Alpha a more lenient one.

My second point has to do with the one matter of note that I will grant the reformist: there can certainly be times when a criminal will receive a more lenient sentence because his crime did actually fail for reasons out of his control.  In response, I would counter that this is a risk we must be willing to take for the sake of erring on the side of caution.  When the pawns we are playing with are real people (and their very lives, in the most extreme cases), it would be morally just on our part, and serve the greatest utility to, for lack of a better phrase, “play it safe”.

My hope with this paper has not been to attempt a demolition of the Reformist’s position.  It is, without a doubt, logical and compelling.  I feel, however, that the doubts that seem to nag at us when approached with this view should not be ignored.  I also believe that I have demonstrated that these doubts arise from an intuitive realisation that in accepting the Reformist’s position, we would be also undermining the way we make decisions in almost every other facet of our lives.  If any of the preceding arguments have lent some credence to the doubts raised against the Reformist, then I have accomplished what I set out to do.

———————————————————————————————————————-

¹ This paper arose from a conversation I had with my colleague, Jessica Zita, at the University of Toronto.  I am deeply indebted to her for her thoughts, criticism, and insight regarding the formulation of the ideas that make up my argument.  I am also indebted to Ashwin Balamohan for his clarification on the divisions between the utilitarian and retributivist schools of thought on punishment.

² Moral luck is, simply put, any outside factor that might affect the desired outcome of our actions.  It might, in other situations, be called fate, kismet, or the hand of God.  For a more robust discussion of this topic, see David Lewis’ “The Punishment that Leaves Something to Chance” or Bernard Williams’ seminal work on the topic, Moral Luck.

I was just about to tap her shoulder when I heard a voice screeching at us.  It was Ammah.  “Come inside now!”  She was mad, I could tell, but I didn’t understand why.

“But we’re playing Lock and Key,” Kaneth whined, still leaning against the banyan tree.

“Now!  All three of you!”

I let my hand drop to my side.  I turned around and faced the house.  “Okay, okay. We’re coming,” I said.  She usually calmed down once she knew we were going to listen.

Ravi was at her side, crying and whispering into her skirt.  I already knew what he was saying.  He was telling her that it was our idea to come out to play, that he just came out because we told him to.  The little bugger.  He’s the one who asked me to come out, and now I was going to pay for listening.

I was still in my room, in bed, when he came to call me - awake, and praying that it would rain all day, like yesterday.  That way, I wouldn’t have to sweep the compound.

“Anna!”  I heard someone call before the door swung open.  I decided to stay still and see if he would go away.  Of course not.  Again, “Anna.”  And then, a hand jostling me back and forth.

I turned around and squinted, pretending to be half asleep.  “What, what?”  It was Ravi, already dressed in his play clothes - a pair of my old shorts and a banyan - with his hair slicked and neatly parted.

“Get up.  Get up.  Get up.”  He sing-songed and pulled the sheet off me.  “We’re going outside to play. We’re going outsi-”

I grabbed the sheet and pulled it back up to my chin.  “No, we’re not. It’s cold. Leave me alone.”

He looked unsure for a moment and then replied, “But you promised yesterday.”  I had, that’s true.  “And now it’s today!”  He cried, as if to settle it.

“Fine, fine, I’m coming.”  I conceded.  He turned around at that and ran out, singing his “We’re going outside” song as he left.

By the time I finished brushing my teeth and getting dressed, Alice was waiting in the kitchen with a cup of Horlicks in her hand.  “I don’t want it,”  I said, hoping she might let me get by. “You know I don’t like it.”

Unfortunately for me, Alice, even though she was the newest, wasn’t afraid of us like the other servant girls.  “No choice,” she retorted quickly, placing the cup on the table.  She went back to the stove.  I sighed as loudly as I could, to make sure she heard, picked up the cup and swallowed the brown stuff inside it as quickly as I could.

The two of them were already outside.  Ravi was hopelessly chasing Kaneth around the banyan tree.  He stopped when he saw me come onto the veranda.  He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, pa`nting.  “Anna, come and play with us,”  he said between gasps.  “I can’t be the lock anymore.”

“The lock?” I asked, “What’s the lock?”

“We’re playing lock and key,” he said, straightening up and spreading his arms, as if to ask, “Isn’t it obvious?”

I wasn’t impressed.  “And when did you learn to play that?”  I wondered, out loud, but more to myself.

“Just now,” he rasped, “we learnt it just now.”

“Did you make it up?” I was wary after being drawn into a countless number of his “games”.

“No, no,” he insisted as he pulled me by the right hand towards the banyan, where Kaneth was leaning, as usual, trying to act like he was not breathing just as hard, if not harder than Ravi, after the run.  “She taught us.”  I looked in the direction he was pointing… “She?”  That’s when I saw her standing there, still, near the gate.

“She” looked familiar for some reason, but she wasn’t someone I knew from school.  She was dark - darker than me and even darker than Alice.  Long black hair fell to her shoulders.  And she was wearing a batik dress - red, with little white elephants around the hem.  She looked like a typical servant girl, but didn’t carry herself like one.  I still couldn’t place her.

Still, there was never a reason to be rude.  That’s what Dada always said.  I smiled and waved.  She started to smile, then stopped and looked down.  Her left hand clenched into a fist, as if she was gathering her resolve.  She turned her face up again, looked at me shyly for a few seconds and finally, smiled.  I think she waved at me also, but I didn’t notice.  I was transfixed by her smile.  So lovely.  And as she started walking towards us, I suddenly realised that “Lock and Key”, whatever it was, seemed like a very good idea.

Lock and Key, as it turned out, consists of one person - the “Lock”- chasing everyone else around and trying to catch them.  If they’re caught, they become “locked” and can’t move.  Luckily for them, though, another person is the “Key”.  If he touches them, they’re “unlocked” and free to go again.  But anyone who gets locked three times automatically becomes the next Lock.

Of course, I can explain all this easily now.  At the time, I was too busy staring at the girl to really pay any close attention to what she was saying.  And suddenly, she blurted “Okay, you be the Lock,” and everyone scattered.  It was only then I realised that she had  been pointing at me.

It was during times like this that I was grateful for being the oldest.  It automatically meant that I was also the fastest.  I looked around at the three of them.  Kaneth and the girl were already running; Ravi was standing nearby.  That meant he was the Key this time around.  I wanted to chase the girl, but she was quick, impressively so, and too far away.  I turned on Kaneth instead, who had stopped, again, at the banyan to catch his breath.

“No, no, please, not me,” he started to scream as soon as he saw me look in his direction.

“I’m sorry,” I commiserated, as I walked up to the tree, leisurely, “that’s just how the game works.”  He looked around for a way to escape.  But he was still winded and I was too close.

“You just don’t want to catch her because you like her,” he insisted.

“Don’t be a fool, Kaneth,” I hissed in warning, “I don’t like her and I’m going to catch her now.  Just wait and see.”  I tapped him and he slumped over against the tree.

“Yes you do.” I heard him whisper as I turned away.

Ravi was nowhere to be seen.  I didn’t care; this just meant that I could catch her without him getting in the way.  “Where was she?” I whispered to myself.  “She was running back to the gate, and now she was…”  There.  I saw the top of her head, and her eyes peering at me from around the corner of the veranda.  Smiling, I started stepping in her direction.  She squealed and bolted away, towards the back of the compound, her slippers clapping against the soles of her feet.  Again, I was surprised at how fast she ran.  I was about to give chase when I stopped myself.  If I go around the other way, I could cut her off.

She was just turning the corner when I reached the back.  Laughing, so beautifully, she swirled around and was gone.  “You’ll never catch me,” I heard her call back.  Naturally, this only made me want to catch her even more.  Not even bothering to try and think of strategy this time, I took off after her.  Yes, she was fast.  But I was faster.  And, I could tell that she was getting tired.

I ran back toward the front, glancing around for a sight of her.  I could still hear foot slapping against rubber slipper.  And then, the sound stopped.  No one can run forever, I thought to myself and smiled.  I reached the front of the compound, stopped, and looked for her.  She was standing near the gate again, grasping the iron railing for support.  She looked frightened for some reason.  Was she scared of me?  Why?  I smiled, reassuringly I hoped, as I walked to her and reached out.

“I said now!” Ammah screamed again.  I was jarred back into the present.  “I don’t want you playing with those fisher folk,” she hissed to Ravi, her whisper heard by everyone.

I looked at the girl.  Her face was bent towards the ground again, black hair listing like a veil between us.  I touched her shoulder.  She looked up - tears welling in her eyes, lips quivering.

“I’m sorry, but we have to go.” I said, my vision suddenly blurring.  “What’s your name?”

“Saa… Saathiya,” she whispered, before turning around and running away.

November 5, 1929 - October 16, 2009

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

Oh My God

To Ms. Beemer, Ms. Teliatnik, Ms. Tintner, Ms. Grossman, Mr. Sukram, Mr. McKinnis, Ms. Doosenberry & Professors Silano, Baird, Rose, Lesk, and Stokes: thank you.

“An inventory of the invisible”

When we left Sri Lanka, I was given a parting gift by a friend who (I think) attended pre-school with me.

The gift, a compilation of popular songs sung by children, was put to good use once we arrived in Toronto.  I can distinctly remember many an evening, when I was around five or six, spent listening to it while jumping up and down in bed.

Now that I think back to it though, some of the songs that were featured on the tape were probably not of the sort that you’d expect children to be singing.  I don’t think they were as hilariously inappropriate (and fantastic) as, let’s say, Scala’s cover of “I Touch Myself”, but they were questionable.  My uncensored exposure to such things at that age would, however, go a long way in explaining the beginnings of my love for eccentric music, among other things.

Sadly, the memory’s too distant for me to remember any of the songs other than “Bend Me, Shape Me”.  I’ll leave you with The American Breed’s take on the tune.

has spent her life, officially, as an aid worker, an airline ground hostess, and a teacher.

On less official grounds, she’s played the role of eldest child, only daughter, twin sister, senior prefect, dancer, marching band leader, style maven, wife, widow, single mother, cook, baker, wedding planner, interior decorator, seamstress, tutor, and homemaker.

In short, as far back as I can remember and beyond, she’s been an overachiever.

Of the few things I still have that belonged to my father - a coffee mug, cufflinks, some postcards, a pair of aviators - what I hold dearest is his record collection.

He was a fan of Jim Reeves, Merle Haggard, Kenny Rogers, and The Man in Black.

And so, ”Ring of Fire”.

was a sailor, and spent the first decade or so of his working life travelling to some fifty-five countries.  Then he met my mother, got married, and never set foot off land again.

He died in 1988, when I was four years old.

The Prologe of The Japeres Tale

1. Whan atte ende was the Cookes tale,
2. The Knyght, riden forward, done heil,
3. Upon the rode, he seyde he coude seie
4. Walken slou toward oure compaignye
5. An asse with a bodi on its rigg leien
6. Parchaunce, he seyde, this persoun was sleinge.
7. He spored his hors and wende forto lok,
8. He tornedde about and feue wordes spok.
9. He spored his hors and camen bak oure wei,
10. We alle waited to her whet he wold sei.
11. ‘Alive he is, but thenne he was aslepe
12. A Japere he claimen be for his kepe.’
13. ‘A Japere,’ the Miller ycried, still wette
14. ‘Unnit thei be, a wisse on  I ne mete.’
15. ‘Nai,’ seyde oure Hoost, ‘if he can be marrie,
16. A japere is welcom for rybaudrie’
17. And sone met our compaignye the Japere,
18. But a treu jaudewin he was not, I sweare.
19. The colours he wered was bright no more,
20. The lok of him unto min sighte was sore.
21. ‘Wel met, leve Japere.’ Oure Hoost yseien,
22. And tolde of oure pilgrimage and plein.
23. ‘Forsooth,’ quod he, ‘yjoinen I wol
24. Forto aske the martyr blessen min soule
25. Thenne back to London I maken passage
26. From inne to tavern to taken min wage’
27. ‘Wage?’ Seyde the Pardoner, his eyes was glouen
28. ‘No toules haf thou or suete to put on’
29. ‘I ned no helpe,’ the Japere replien,
30. ‘For Wit, knak and a god storri art min’
31. ‘Storri?’ Quod oure Hoost. ‘Then one nouwe ytell
32. And jugen thy wordes and skille we welle’
33. ‘Gladli,’ seyde the Japere, the throte voiden.
34. He claspen his hondes and this spoken.

Heere Endeth The Prologe of The Japeres Tale

———-

Heere Bigynneth The Japere His Tale

“Once, there was a very rich man named Rhinehart, who, having reached his latter years, had retired to a beautiful country manor.  There, he kept a menagerie of rare and exotic animals with the centrepiece of the collection being a small yellow sheep.

One dark day, as he was walking about his grounds and enjoying the sight of his animals, he realised with great shock (and not too little awe) that his yellow sheep was missing.  And his heart, overcome by the thought of life without his sheep, all but gave way.

Rhinehart, however, was a wise man, and quickly hit upon a way to find his most prized possession: he would ask his sons to search for it.  So, from the sickbed in which he had retired, he called for his eldest son, Horace.  And once the young man had come to his father’s side, Rhinehart told him of the request.

‘Horace, he said, ‘I am old and have few pleasures left in life.  In fact, since the passing of your mother (God bless her soul!) the only thing that has been able to give me pleasure has been my yellow sheep.  And now, that too has been lost to me and you thus you see me here, a sad old man.  Find it for me, Horace, and I shall leave my entire fortune to you.  But do so quickly, for I fear that if I do not have my sheep soon, I shall die.’

Now Horace, though a truly dull fellow, knew an opportunity when he saw one.  He immediately promised his help and rushed off to find the sheep.  He found a few servants and had them scour the manor and surrounding village for the yellow sheep.  They returned to him after many hours and told him that the sheep was nowhere to be found.  So Horace, saddened at the thought of his lost fortune, went and told his father that he had not been able to find the sheep.

But Rhinehart, though further distraught by the continued absence of his sheep, was not so easily dissuaded.  He called for his second son, Abernathy, and told him as he had told Horace:  ‘Find my sheep and my fortune shall be yours.  But be quick, for I am sad and can feel that my death is near.’

Abernathy, like Horace, seized the opportunity and immediately found some servants to look for the sheep, sending them throughout the country this time.  And scour the country they did, searching far and wide.  But they too returned without the sheep.  And so, Abernathy also returned to his father empty handed.

Thus, Rhinehart was left with only his youngest son, James, to turn to.  He called him and repeated what he had said to Horace and Abernathy:  ”Find my sheep, James, and all that is mine will be yours.  But quickly my son, for my death is upon me.  Bring me my sheep, or I shall die a sad man!”

James, being the wisest and bravest of the three, gathered some servants and set off to find the sheep.  After scouring the surrounding areas, he made his way throughout the country.  And when his search through the England yielded nothing, he made his way to the surrounding lands and even beyond.

Finally, after many years of searching, he returned home.  He rushed to his father’s bedside and fell down next to him.  ‘Father,” he said, ‘I have been gone many years - I have searched the whole world over.  And I have failed.  I have not found your sheep.’

And so, Rhinehart died.”

Heere Is Ended The Japeres First Tale

1. ‘What,’ seyde oure Hoost, ‘was the mening of that?
2. None tale that was, but an evil pratte.
3. No more canst thou speken till Caunterbury’
4. And to thes with on minde we all don aggreed.

———-

1. The Nonnes Preestes tale was not grouen colde
2. The Japere begain to speken in manere bolde
3. ‘On more tale,’ seyde he, ‘I haven to spinne,
4. And wold tellen for redempcion of sinne.’

Heere Bigynneth The Japere His Second Tale

“Listen closely and I too will tell you a tale of a husband and wife.”  The Japere said.  “But be warned, this story is not for the faint of heart…

Not too long ago, a young man named Jasper and a young woman named Teslin were married.  And because they were both from very wealthy families, their lavish wedding was followed by a yearlong trip to the continent.

After crossing the channel at Arcae, they boarded a large, luxurious carriage and headed to their first destination, Paris.  All the way there, they discussed the things they would see and do, and as they were still living in wedded bliss, the time passed quickly.  Once they arrived, too eager to even wait for the servants, Jasper opened the door and began to step down when he was stopped by a scream from Teslin.  ’Look!’  She cried, pointing out the window.

Looking in the direction of her gaze, he suddenly realised why the servants had not as yet descended.  For there, a few feet from the carriage, was a small bush, rustling as if possessed by a faerie or another similarly evil creature.  Fearing for the safety of his wife, Jasper quickly closed the door and commanded the servants to head for their next stop.  Thankfully, they had packed much provisions, so Jasper and Teslin (and their servants) were quite willing to wait until they reached Senones to truly begin their honeymoon.

It was early in the morn when they arrived, but after many days in the carriage, they were only too happy to step out into the crisp morning air.  But again, Teslin cried out.  Jasper looked around, and there, near the wheel was a shaking bush.  In fact, it appeared to be the same bush!  And Jasper, while being wonderful in many ways, was not truly a brave man.  He banged the door shut and pleaded with the servants to move on to Divopia.

But it was there in Divopia as well!  And in Geneva.  And in Vienna, and Valencia, and Avenio.  The faerie bush was everywhere they went!  And to make matters worse, their supplies were running low.  So Jasper decided that it would be best to retrace their steps and return to the safety of England and home.

After they had reached Arcae, Jasper told the servants to drive to the docks and then find the nearest ship.  Once there, Jasper slowly opened the door and looked down.  And there, as expected, was the bush.

But by now, Jasper was as a man gone mad.  He ran down the coach steps, ignoring the cries of Teslin and the servants, and thrust his hands into the bush.  He wrapped his hands around whatever it was that was inside and yanked as hard as he could.  And when he looked down to see what was in his hands, he found himself holding the yellow sheep.”

Heere Is Ended The Japeres Second Tale

The Epilogue of The Japeres Tales

1. ‘Bi God, that was wel tolde,’ cried oure Hoost,
2. Youe art, forsoth, morre connen thanne most’
3. ‘The yelwe shep!’ He seyde, and laughen with chere.
4. ‘Thinken, from the furst tale, him fonde his wei here’
5. And everinne there afer as I seien,
6. Was gladde the Japere was oure compaignye.

References

Chaucer, Geoffrey.  The Canterbury Tales.  1908.  Ed. A. C. Cawley.  New York: Alfre A. Knopf, 1992.

Davis, Norman, Douglas Gray, Patricia Ingham and Anne Wallace-Hadril, eds.   A Chaucer Glossary.  Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979.

Koppen, Adolph Ludvig.  The World in the Middle Ages.  New York: D. Appleton, 1854.

The Middle English Dictionary. Ed. Frances McSparran.  2001.  17 November 2005 <http ://ets.umdl.umich.edu/m/med/>