I am puzzled by the modern scoring system for figure skating. I've watched a fair amount in the last year since I have a TV (mostly only the women's, since figure skating isn't all that popular in Korea but Kim Yu-na is so that's what they show). Here are some observations, analyzed without actually trying to look anything up:

So there are two parts, the short and free programs. Each is scored in two parts, Technical Elements and Presentation. Technical Elements seems to be fairly straightforward: what jumps, steps, etc. are in the program and did you actually do them. Presentation I'm not really so sure about.

Regardless, I've noticed the following base results for most of the female skaters who have a shot at medals: the short program will net a base of about 50 points, running generally up to about 64; the free programs usually score a minimum of around 85, running up to about 120. I'm not really qualified to talk about the technical scoring, as I'm purely a spectator and can't tell all the different jumps apart much less remember the names, but numbers I can do things with.

Now, I mentioned Kim Yu-na before, because it was watching the highlights from her latest win that the system really bugged me. Kim is probably at the top right now and her own personal peak; the right build, training, etc. to be able to do a little more or the harder stuff than her competitors. So how she wins is fairly obvious: she crams both of her programs with a bunch of hard stuff, focuses on the short program (which keeps netting her records, this one a 76-something in contrast to the next-best which was maybe 67), and lets the stunt-filled free program carry her even if it's not quite as solid.

I understand skating is serious business for skaters, but I watch purely for entertainment, and based on that criterion the scoring system is deeply flawed on two points. First, scoring - not the actual programs, but scoring - seems to have only two categories for the major part of what I would think "presentation" means, which is flair, presence, and so forth: unless a performance is stunning, it is meh, boring, nothing special. For instance, Kim's short program 76 - it was a pretty special program. But when you have a scoring range of maybe 30 points, was it really 9 points better than the next best? If so - and I assume there was some reason - I couldn't tell why. I assume it was fancier jumps or something, but my untrained eye wasn't particularly more blown away. 70 points yes, 76 no.

Second, falling doesn't seem to be penalized consistently. Again, I'm not a skater: I fall over if I try to skate backwards. But these people are skaters, and while it's absolutely ridiculously impressive that they don't fall over more, when they do fall over it should matter. I don't play soccer professionally either, but I consider myself perfectly justified it getting upset at a goalie who allows five in a match. Instead, it seems most of the time that if a skater falls during a mediocre performance, well we can penalize that and knock her down a couple more pegs, but if it's during a good one it can be overlooked, at least relatively speaking.

Again, I'm speaking from a purely entertainment point of view, but to me, a slightly less difficult program pulled off with no problems should score significantly higher than a hard program with a couple flaws, er, falls. It would seem to me, as an outsider, that falling ought to be the cardinal sin of figure skating, but instead that status seems to be given to having an "easy program". I may actually have to do some research on the subject now, although I have a fairly extensive list of "things to research some day".

(There also seems to be a tendency to be extra-generous in scoring the host country's skaters, but that's an entirely different can of worms...)

As an American, I grew up remembering November 11th as Veterans' Day, or, since I got into history buff mode surprisingly early in my life, Armistice Day. This is an important, solemn holiday to remember and honor the sacrifices of our Armed Forces, past and present.

Now, I did not exactly expect Korea to observe this holiday; during World War I they played no part and although Korea was drawn into world conflicts through the Japanese occupation and then the Korean and Vietnam war, it's not in any way a holiday directly related to Korean history.

Reality is, however, even weirder than expectations, as I suppose should be expected. In Korea, 11/11 is a holiday - of sorts. It has nothing to do with veterans, however, and it's completely unofficial. It's more a children's holiday, almost a joke holiday: "Pepero Day". Pepero (or more correctly, ppeppero, but the Korean double consonants really don't mean much anymore) is a popular Korean snack food. Anime fans and other Japanophiles would recognize it as pocky; for those of you still lost, imagine a chocolate-covered pretzel stick without the salt and you have the general idea. The date, fairly obviously, is chosen because of the way it looks: 11/11. I suppose it's a commercialized "holiday" but it comes across - at least to a foreigner - as a colossal self-conscious joke, and basically everybody treats it like a huge party.

But the overall effect of my own remembering this was Veterans' Day while Korea celebrated something silly like this was rather like the effect of a Dali painting.

On a related note, I read a truly bizarre article about the Fort Hood shootings today. The author got as far as realizing that religion may have played a part in motivating the shooter. He suggested that possibly the (Muslim) perpetrator was leery of fighting against other Muslims, or even regarded the US campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq as wars against Islam - this stretches disbelief, given our relations with states like Saudi Arabia, our constant deference to Iran and Palestinian interests, and lack of interference in the Sudan, but okay, whatever. However, here's where it got weird: the author seemed to suggest that this later was unquestionably actually the case, and that the ultimate blame for the shootings therefore lay at the feet of the US Government. I am somewhat confounded, as even were he right about the man's motives, there are other more reasonable alternatives - requesting discharge, requesting another assignment on grounds of conscience, or even refusing to ship or engage in combat in a (decidedly American) tradition of civil disobedience. The author accused the Army and news media of dancing around the main point of the story, but seemed rather too focused on his own idea to actually think about what that point was himself. (I can't find the link at the moment as I've forgotten the author's name.)

Due to a fit of insanity, I both signed up for NaNoWriMo this year and actually started writing, thus depriving myself of approximately 2 hours a day which I might have used to do other things. Like, oh, I don't know, I'm not particularly good at accomplishing anything in my free time. So on the whole, I think this counts as a benefit overall despite my terrible style and complete lack of writing ability.

Anyway, today I went to a write-in, which is to say a bunch of people get together with computers and notebooks and write things. This would probably work better in Australia this time of year as you could actually go outside; in Korea, while it's plenty warm enough (stop with the 65 in November already!) it was kind of overcast and drizzly most of the day. So seven of us started out in a coffee shop where the staff was a little nervous about us being there. So after collecting everyone 45 minutes in we moved out in search of greener pastures.

They turned out to be kind of pinker pastures - we somehow ended up in a cafe think that caters to, apparently, couples on dates and small parties (hence the pink). They were very nice to us there - and oddly didn't even seem very surprised. I'm not sure whether they just considered us crazy foreigners or what (no Koreans in the group, for some reason), but we were treated extremely well. I can't say the food was particularly excellent, unfortunately - I suppose for their usual clientele that's one thing that can slip a little bit; it wasn't a particularly high-end place.

Still, an afternoon fairly well spent. There are pictures somewhere. I don't know if I'll ever see them.

The following question occurred to me late last night, probably because I stayed up too late, but I don't know what to make of it:

Suppose we have a bunch of parallel universes, as proposed but many science fiction novelists and a decent number of philosophers as well over the last century or so. Specifically, suppose we take the version that says that if you can imagine it, it's real "somewhere". Now I can imagine a universe with no god. Whether it would just be complete chaos, or nothing particular, or perhaps unguided evolutionary principles and all the other fluff as per standard materialist explanations of this world actually managed to produce something - or maybe all three could exist separately - I can imagine it. But I can also imagine - leaving aside for the moment the question of whether or not believe it - a universe with a god. This would cause "god" to both exist and not exist, depending - and yet the standard conception of god (in the West, at least, thanks in large part to the Judaeo-Christian tradition) imagines him as outside the universe. So this conception of a multiverse seems incompatible with this notion of god.

So the questions: apart from the whole problem where an alternate universe isn't actually observable more or less by definition, how can you go about proving something on such a metaphysical level? If you believe in god, do you have to abandon any multiverse theory? If you don't, how do you know limits? If you accept an "infinite multiverse" theory such as I mentioned, do you have to be an atheist? An agnostic? Why would you accept this theory anyway (and I even took a class where we sort of dealt with some of this stuff)?

Anyway, I confused myself with this question (or scenario, or what-have-you). A friend of mine claims she thinks too much, and I occasionally suspect myself of the same problem.

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On a different tack, I've been puzzling rather over a question that's rather politically charged at the moment. As Americans, we have this document that's supposed to supply the legal framework for our country's federal government. Whether it does or not any more is open to debate but at any rate most politicians will - if not ignoring it completely - at least pay lipservice to the idea. This raises two questions in my mind:

First, suppose the Constitution is flawed. Are we bound to obey it anyway, down to all the formal details (of which there aren't many), or does it then count as - since we had nothing to do with the signing - a promise as it were made under duress?

Then, if it is still binding, are we also obliged to follow laws made by legally constituted authorities which are nevertheless provably unconstitutional laws? For instance, suppose Congress passed a law restricting churches from holding assemblies on public property (or if you don't like the churches example, substitute redheads or dance clubs or transsexuals or Mississippians living in other states or former firefighters - the idea is the same). This would fairly clearly be a violation of the first amendment right to assemble - and yet with the specter of hate crime legislation and what-not floating around it's not entirely inconceivable that it could be passed, and even upheld in court. Do you hold your assembly anyway, civil rights movement style? Or do you respect the new law - and why?

Second - well, is it flawed? In large part the Constitution was based somewhat in English common law but largely on early-ish Englightment individualism - it might be summed up as equal treatment for each person regardless of height, sex, race, weight, creed, health, family size, or favorite baseball team. This doesn't really sit well today, as the prevalent "establishment" mode of thought is socialism or groupism or something - I don't know exactly what term applies, but the idea of thinking by groups: blacks, whites, undereducated, urban, rural, Latino, conservative, liberal, wealthy, business - the individual is classified by group and (largely) judged on that basis. I'll make no secret of the fact that I tend to be individualist: a person is a person.

As far as I can tell, whether you're Korean-American or generic Caucasian has as little to do with what the law should say about you as whether you're right- or left-handed, or prefer Elton John or the Beatles (or hate them both). This is in fact necessary because the individual really doesn't live in a vacuum. In the history of this country, there really have been examples of injustice by groups - largely because many people tend to think in groups, from Little League on up. How should the law handle this? I mean, we are facing a situation now where in many parts of the world - and starting to happen in the US - various groups are given special protection. To cite one example: Germany's banning of Holocaust denial. Now, denying the Holocaust is a really stupid and offensive thing to do, and certain versions I've seen could probably be prosecuted for libel - but we like (or liked) to say there are no laws against being wrong. But is it also illegal to deny the Thirty Years' War? The Reign of Terror? Why should the Holocaust get special treatment? Or to take the hate-crimes thing: why do we need an extra law making something extra-illegal just because a crime is committed against Minnesotans with Irish grandmothers? Is it now less bad to kill a non-Minnesotan? If this is what we're saying, what happens to our idea of individual worth?

But now I'm getting off into what some would call individualist screed, and the modern "liberal" will counter by reminding me that no one is suggesting that Minnesotans need special hate-crimes legislation to keep them safe, we're just concerned about persecuted minorities like [gays, blacks, Muslims, factory workers; pick one]. And it's at this point I start to wonder. Because is it really sufficient just to insist on "equal" justice for everybody? How do you enforce that? What if statistically red-headed Albanians do have the highest crime rate on the West Coast? Are they just being picked on because they're easier to catch and identify? Do they tend to live in neighborhoods with bad schools or what-have-you? This sort of thinking does have a point. What I'm trying to say is that if we're going to talk about equal worth and individualism, on some level we still need to assess groups - I mean, we talk a lot of nonsense in conservative circles about individual effort and capitalism solving things and what-not, but on some level the government (however constituted) should be concerned to reduce the number of "bad neighborhoods" under the idea of general welfare, and that will require special attention.

But I think we need to look at how that special attention is applied. To pass a law for a specific group is a bad precedent, since the American tradition of law considers law largely impersonal, and as such, it's a bad instrument for specific corrections. But it's fairly easy to pass a law, and it's hard to hire more police, sack corrupt judges, hire good teachers, etc. So we pass laws when we should be doing all the other things.

And at this point I sort of lose track of where I'm going. I'm fairly sure I'm right so far - as confusing as my vague explanations may be - but questions still remain: what should the government do specifically? How do we get the government to do it? If the government doesn't - and to cover anything it can't - what do we need to do? I'm not a fan of just doing "something" and hoping, but I don't like doing nothing either, and doing the wrong thing is hardly productive. So yeah. End rant.

I have this laundry rack, and it confuses me. How can something so simple be confusing, you ask? Well, it has a somewhat schizophrenic stability. If I'm setting it up, hanging clothes on it, etc. it has a habit of falling over/coming apart (yes, it's one of those folding racks) if I look at it funny. However, if it's just sitting there outside in high-ish winds, with clothes on it, it will... just sit there. Like nothing's the matter. Like I'm nuts to worry about it. I find this deeply troubling on a metaphysical level, but the laundry rack just sits there. Laughing at me.