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Nov. 10th, 2012
Project AE...
Nov. 10th, 2012 03:14 pmMy first encounter with ham radio occurred during elementary school, if memory serves, when I visited the apartment of a friend who—as it happened—was a young radio amateur. His station was small, but real, and its performance put to shame all the flashing lights that passed for high technology on television. It would be another quarter century or so before I jumped into the hobby, inspired by several ham colleagues I worked with at Borland.
I came out of that first test session—a fairly short multiple-choice test of knowledge and a 5-word-per-minute Morse code test—with a "Technician Plus" qualification, which reverted to "Technician" ten years later when the time came to renew the license. In the intervening years, I had done little other than chew the rag on the 2-meter band. Another decade and several months passed before I worked up the initiative to take the mulitple-choice exam for the "General" class through the auspices of the Clear Lake Amateur Radio Club (CLARC) near our place in Seabrook a couple of months back. Few things promote an interest in ham radio like being cheek-by-jowl to a technically oriented facility such as the Johnson Space Center (although I am told there is a separate JSC ARC, too, that's actually based at the center).
Upon advancing to General, I realized that I was now only one step from the "top of the heap," the Extra class. Unlike the General class, however, the Extra question pool is significantly larger (700 questions) and the test consists of 50 questions instead of 35 for the General exam. Thus began my Project "Advanced Extra," or AE for short.
If I found the questions in the General pool to be a mixture of knowledge I already possessed and knowledge relatively easily assimilated, the Extra pool was almost very nearly a complete mystery to me when I started. I failed my first test exam (taken online), and it was not a close thing.
The conventional wisdom to taking the ham exams is to not try to memorize the answers. As far as trying to associate a letter choice with any particular question number or question wording, the advice is excellent. But in a larger sense, I think it would be really hard to lock down what you need to know to pass the Extra exam without memorization. So I memorized, using the mnemonic techniques I've been studying, and even woke up some old synapse paths to relearn the manipulation of complex numbers.
I had planned to take the exam last month, but things were so well and truly crazy in early October, there was no time to do anything but eat, sleep and work. Fortunately, CLARC organizes an exam session every month, so I took the Extra exam this morning and passed it. I didn't ace it, but I didn't "just squeak by," either.
As a test of my mnemonic skills, I'd describe the result in similar terms. I found out the hard way that I had not created a sufficiently vivid picture to successfully retain the information in some cases. Fortunately, Joshua Foer, in his book Moonwalking with Einstein, revealed a very helpful (to me) tidbit in this regard: this kind of thing happens to world-class memory competitors, too, so I'm not going to lose any sleep over it. I have no such grand designs.
Besides, I passed the exam!
I came out of that first test session—a fairly short multiple-choice test of knowledge and a 5-word-per-minute Morse code test—with a "Technician Plus" qualification, which reverted to "Technician" ten years later when the time came to renew the license. In the intervening years, I had done little other than chew the rag on the 2-meter band. Another decade and several months passed before I worked up the initiative to take the mulitple-choice exam for the "General" class through the auspices of the Clear Lake Amateur Radio Club (CLARC) near our place in Seabrook a couple of months back. Few things promote an interest in ham radio like being cheek-by-jowl to a technically oriented facility such as the Johnson Space Center (although I am told there is a separate JSC ARC, too, that's actually based at the center).
Upon advancing to General, I realized that I was now only one step from the "top of the heap," the Extra class. Unlike the General class, however, the Extra question pool is significantly larger (700 questions) and the test consists of 50 questions instead of 35 for the General exam. Thus began my Project "Advanced Extra," or AE for short.
If I found the questions in the General pool to be a mixture of knowledge I already possessed and knowledge relatively easily assimilated, the Extra pool was almost very nearly a complete mystery to me when I started. I failed my first test exam (taken online), and it was not a close thing.
The conventional wisdom to taking the ham exams is to not try to memorize the answers. As far as trying to associate a letter choice with any particular question number or question wording, the advice is excellent. But in a larger sense, I think it would be really hard to lock down what you need to know to pass the Extra exam without memorization. So I memorized, using the mnemonic techniques I've been studying, and even woke up some old synapse paths to relearn the manipulation of complex numbers.
I had planned to take the exam last month, but things were so well and truly crazy in early October, there was no time to do anything but eat, sleep and work. Fortunately, CLARC organizes an exam session every month, so I took the Extra exam this morning and passed it. I didn't ace it, but I didn't "just squeak by," either.
As a test of my mnemonic skills, I'd describe the result in similar terms. I found out the hard way that I had not created a sufficiently vivid picture to successfully retain the information in some cases. Fortunately, Joshua Foer, in his book Moonwalking with Einstein, revealed a very helpful (to me) tidbit in this regard: this kind of thing happens to world-class memory competitors, too, so I'm not going to lose any sleep over it. I have no such grand designs.
Besides, I passed the exam!
On small differences...
Nov. 10th, 2012 08:18 pmI am making slow but steady progress in mastering the "short form" in my tai chi classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Depite the fact that, at this stage of my progress, my sifu, or teacher, dismisses me after an hour of class, I still stick around for 10 of 15 more minutes, generally, to watch the more advanced students in their activities.
This past Thursday, sifu took the opportunity to explain a fairly fine point regarding the alignment of body parts when striking with the fist, and in the course of that explanation, what little I understand about tai chi as a martial art (at this point, only enough so that if you wadded it up and stuck it in your eye, you probably wouldn't feel any discomfort) became just a little bit clearer.
The point of sifu's instruction was how just a small change in the alignment of arm and body can make such a large difference in the effectiveness of the movement. Sifu demonstrated this with the aid of one of the advanced students, and it was pretty eye-opening. One way it works; another, almost indistinguishably different way, it doesn't. The demonstration certainly had not been staged.
Why would that thought cross my mind, you ask? And how could I tell, anyway?
Well, because back when I dabbled in magic as a performing art, there were a number of effects—generally falling into the category of "hypnosis"—in which the performer appears to be able to make suggestions to subjects that affect their physical or mental abilities. (You may like to read the story of how The Amazing Kreskin made me forget my name!)
I was reminded of this while watching an episode of something featuring Derren Brown, a performer who does "mind control."
In that episode, Derren visited a boxing gym with a camera crew and a petite female assistant. The denizens of said gym were hearty, muscled fellows, entirely capable of lifting the assistant straight up in the air (which they did, numerous times, for the camera). One by one, after the assistant had been placed back down on the ground, Brown would "suggest" to the man who had just lifted her that he had lost his physical strength, and that no amount of effort would enable him to lift her again. Incredulous, the men would try to lift the girl again. And they would fail.
Mind control? Nope.
The "trick" here had to do with the way the assistant positioned herself. If she stood one way, she was "liftable"; if she stood the other, nearly identical way, the men would have to call upon a different set of muscles, ones that are not normally used for lifting human-scaled loads straight up into the air. (Once, the assistant either didn't set herself up properly or the man moved her, because he was able to lift her, but only with some difficulty. He would fail in subsequent attempts.)
This wasn't the first time I had seen this kind of effect. Back when we lived in Florida, about a dozen moons of moons ago, my mother insisted on arranging for me to visit a doctor who lived on the Gulf Coast, somewhere around Naples, if memory serves. This doctor had come highly recommended and was reputed to be a whiz at holistic medicine, natural healing, etc. I recall he liked to go on and on about Candida albicans ("The fungus among us!") and how it was imperative for me to (basically) stop consuming everything but a narrow spectrum of foods he recommended.
I had my doubts, but tried to keep an open mind.
Then, at one point, he had me stand up straight with my arms at my side, whereupon he placed one hand on my arm and asked me to raise my arm outward from my body, to shoulder level, while he would try to prevent me from doing so. I could not raise my arm. Try as I might, I could not. He reached for something with his free hand.
He then administered some kind of drops under my tongue and we chatted for less than a minute, then we repeated the test. This time, he really leaned onto my arm with everything he had, but I was able to raise my arm to shoulder level with no problem. It was as if he wasn't even there.
Pretty impressive, huh?
Well, at that point in the visit, I couldn't wait to get out of the guy's office. Why? Because a guy passing through the Forks Hotel in Buffalo had shown me how to do essentially the same effect several years before, back when I was doing close-up magic in the establishment's bar.
Was the doctor's demonstration some kind of coincidence? a con? I really didn't care, at the time, but when I saw some kind of certificate on the good doctor's wall from—wait for it—the International Brotherhood of Magicians (I myself had belonged to the IBM in Buffalo), I was not all that surprised.
And so, despite being very young in tai chi, I think I have a pretty good understanding of the consequences of small changes in alignment and posture. I hope to eventually have it all come together.
Cheers...
This past Thursday, sifu took the opportunity to explain a fairly fine point regarding the alignment of body parts when striking with the fist, and in the course of that explanation, what little I understand about tai chi as a martial art (at this point, only enough so that if you wadded it up and stuck it in your eye, you probably wouldn't feel any discomfort) became just a little bit clearer.
The point of sifu's instruction was how just a small change in the alignment of arm and body can make such a large difference in the effectiveness of the movement. Sifu demonstrated this with the aid of one of the advanced students, and it was pretty eye-opening. One way it works; another, almost indistinguishably different way, it doesn't. The demonstration certainly had not been staged.
Why would that thought cross my mind, you ask? And how could I tell, anyway?
Well, because back when I dabbled in magic as a performing art, there were a number of effects—generally falling into the category of "hypnosis"—in which the performer appears to be able to make suggestions to subjects that affect their physical or mental abilities. (You may like to read the story of how The Amazing Kreskin made me forget my name!)
I was reminded of this while watching an episode of something featuring Derren Brown, a performer who does "mind control."
In that episode, Derren visited a boxing gym with a camera crew and a petite female assistant. The denizens of said gym were hearty, muscled fellows, entirely capable of lifting the assistant straight up in the air (which they did, numerous times, for the camera). One by one, after the assistant had been placed back down on the ground, Brown would "suggest" to the man who had just lifted her that he had lost his physical strength, and that no amount of effort would enable him to lift her again. Incredulous, the men would try to lift the girl again. And they would fail.
Mind control? Nope.
The "trick" here had to do with the way the assistant positioned herself. If she stood one way, she was "liftable"; if she stood the other, nearly identical way, the men would have to call upon a different set of muscles, ones that are not normally used for lifting human-scaled loads straight up into the air. (Once, the assistant either didn't set herself up properly or the man moved her, because he was able to lift her, but only with some difficulty. He would fail in subsequent attempts.)
This wasn't the first time I had seen this kind of effect. Back when we lived in Florida, about a dozen moons of moons ago, my mother insisted on arranging for me to visit a doctor who lived on the Gulf Coast, somewhere around Naples, if memory serves. This doctor had come highly recommended and was reputed to be a whiz at holistic medicine, natural healing, etc. I recall he liked to go on and on about Candida albicans ("The fungus among us!") and how it was imperative for me to (basically) stop consuming everything but a narrow spectrum of foods he recommended.
I had my doubts, but tried to keep an open mind.
Then, at one point, he had me stand up straight with my arms at my side, whereupon he placed one hand on my arm and asked me to raise my arm outward from my body, to shoulder level, while he would try to prevent me from doing so. I could not raise my arm. Try as I might, I could not. He reached for something with his free hand.
He then administered some kind of drops under my tongue and we chatted for less than a minute, then we repeated the test. This time, he really leaned onto my arm with everything he had, but I was able to raise my arm to shoulder level with no problem. It was as if he wasn't even there.
Pretty impressive, huh?
Well, at that point in the visit, I couldn't wait to get out of the guy's office. Why? Because a guy passing through the Forks Hotel in Buffalo had shown me how to do essentially the same effect several years before, back when I was doing close-up magic in the establishment's bar.
Was the doctor's demonstration some kind of coincidence? a con? I really didn't care, at the time, but when I saw some kind of certificate on the good doctor's wall from—wait for it—the International Brotherhood of Magicians (I myself had belonged to the IBM in Buffalo), I was not all that surprised.
And so, despite being very young in tai chi, I think I have a pretty good understanding of the consequences of small changes in alignment and posture. I hope to eventually have it all come together.
Cheers...