hats off to the birthday boy

Taken just before being bonked on the head by Mr. A. Judging by his expression a rather enjoyable south Indian birthday tradition .

After being bonked on the head I decided to keep the cake all to myself, eating two slices at a time. The others didn't appear very hungry anyways.

Then, offended that I ate all the cake and adding insult to injury, Mr. A took my gift and opened it for himself, all-the-while keeping me at a distance by threatening me with a blade. I no longer felt like wearing my birthday cap.

HEADLINE: "Physics Grad Student Friend Wins, Big Surprise"

Chris said...

Here are the first four

(9-3)*2+8 = 24
(5*3)+6+3 = 24
(4*2)*(2+1) = 24
2*(7+9) + 8 = 24

Well, no one can be too surprised that the man who's been studying math-related things on a daily basis for the entirety of his life up to this point has won. It's finally starting to pay off, right Chris? That fourth one sure was a doozy, although it appears that you may still have a slight hangup distinguishing the sign for addition from that of subtraction, unless 40 is the new 24, which is could be.

Here's a few more for all you folks who spend most of your time avoiding the things that Chris eats, sleeps, and dreams about; meaning keeps your answers to yourself Chris, and you too Zach, or should I say 24-champion-of-the-5th-grade-elementary-school-class!

Also second prize is the same as first prize. So maybe there's a moral to this story after all. Oh yeah, and after all, congratulations Chris!

2 2 2 3

4 4 9 1

8 3 6 2

5 5 2 2

beware of 24

I thought I would upgrade my brother's comment to post status. The first one to post (comment) the answers shall be rewarded with the same. Let the birthday-celebration excitement ensue!

Happy Born-Day broaridudebro. 24 years old. Like all budding 24-year olds, you must now try to figure out the below "24" math problems (remember that game I played in Elementary School?)

The rules:
Add, subtract, multiply, and divide the four given numbers to get 24. You must use all four numbers, and you can only use each once.

Example:

3 6 2 3

1st step: 3x6 = 18
2nd step: 2x3 = 6
3rd step: 18+6 = 24
YOU WIN!!

24 CHALLENGES:

9 3 8 2


6 5 3 3


4 1 2 2


7 9 2 8

Good luck.
Also, I'm still waiting for an e-mail.

the Edge

Thanksgiving time. I give thanks. Thanks for the harvest and the land and the white man’s immunity to germs and prior development of guns and ambitions to sail over and off the edge of the earth. Somehow a very Western thought, sailing off the edge of the planet. In India and the East everything goes in circles and cycles and incarnations, but in the West we just try to reach the end, even if just to fall off. Celebrated Thanksgiving for for breakfast this year by eating idlys and vedas dipped and drizzled in their various sauces and hand-spooned off the banana leaf. Jenn’s parents sent “crackers” and we popped them (pop!) and then opened them—inside mine was a mini-tape measurer (4 ft.) and a joke, “What kind of cat should you never play cards with? A Cheetah.” I imagine Christian laughing at this joke, but not many others.

Birthday time. I was birthed. I was born around Thanksgiving time because my parents consummated their young marriage around Valentine’s Day—so much love associated with my birth; so much proud American consumer-culture. We would sail to the edge of the earth for love in America, yes we would, and if we didn’t find it there we would find it in a frog and turn that frog into a beautiful prince, or princess. And then on February 14th we would buy that frog chocolate-covered flies and an exceptional bouquet of lily pads and inseminate that frog, not once considering the trip to the hospital during the Cowboys vs. Redskins game we were resigning ourselves to the next fall. And then we would most likely eventually realize we married a frog and get a divorce.

In reward for being born 24-years ago I’m hoping to receive deodorant sticks and one of these sweet gas-station-attendant shirts they wear here that say “Pure for Sure” with a graphic of a hand giving the “A-Okay” sign on the back. I’m also hoping to finally shake this stomach bug (no more mixed-veg dosas for me) and sore throat (too much running around in the rain trying to prevent the rain from running too much into our house), and even have something resembling a party; because if there’s one thing to help push us over that edge we’re so drawn to in the West, or maybe it helps keep us back I'm not really sure, it’s a good party.

I can be your hero

"Ari donned a past intern's gigantic blue rain suit and turned into Superman, making makeshift pipes and giving sound advice."
-quote from Jenn's blog entry Of Floods and Bugs..., although that's really all you need to know.

A year in the making

The following are excerpts from two journal entries I wrote one year ago during a brief but intense spell of documented introspection. I stumbled across them the other day and thought they presented both a fine contrast to the present and a reminder of how things change but stay the same. I’ve edited out anything too revealing, sorry.

11/15/06
One minute past midnight, so late, so early. There were some highlights today; more like the day’s highlights, nothing I’ll need to keep highlighted for too long. For one, I interviewed at an employment agency. With a lot of these job-searching activities by the end I am left with the feeling that I should be doing the person’s job because I could do it better. I think they are left with the feeling that I feel that way. It took them over a week to call me back for Christ’s sake.

I ended up taking three aptitude tests at the agency: basic knowledge, MS Word, and MS Excel. It really hit me that I was wasting my time when, just as I was about to complete the basic knowledge test, the computer malfunctioned and I had to start all over again. And the lady interviewing me had a broken foot and was just entering that crucial period where she can begin to apply pressure to it, which apparently deserves frequent notation. As I was walking out the door the secretary actually told me that for the next several weeks, things, job market things I presume, “would certainly be dismal, but you never know.” I should have spent the afternoon gathering firewood.

11/16/06
I took another employment-related test today. This one was less of an aptitude indicator and more of a social-placement test. It was for Borders, and I had to take it twice since I wanted to apply to two different Borders locations. After doing 37 pages of 5 multiple choice questions once, I somehow found the motivation to do it all again. Oh, the toils of job hunting.

In taking the test I realized that the person they want me to be and the person that I am are about as different as…well, as your typical Border’s employee and a relatively insecure, lugubrious 22 year old who lives in his mom’s living room [don’t know what I was thinking here…differences seem rather unimpressive don’t they?]. Of course I lied accordingly on the test, the first time at least. The second time I was more willing to accept myself as a poor candidate for Borders. I mean, I could do the job, it’s just not a job designed for me. Anyways, in typical ruminative fashion I began to question why I didn’t more resemble this ideal Borders employee: why couldn’t I glide smoothly between cashier, inventory, and the café without the slightest mental hang-up? Why didn’t I easily put negative criticism behind me? Why did I spend a lot of time worrying about things that were out of my control? ? Why am I not more content with who I am?

topic

There’s four days off and the topic is vacation. The location is Bangalore, India; India’s most Westernized city. My American friends back home told me it’s not worth my time, too Westernized, my Indian coworkers have nothing bad to say. My friends back home are too opinionated in predictably preemptive ways, my Indian friends aren’t, well, so suffocated by Westerly winds, yet. Either way, cooler weather, a change of pace, and Western breakfast are too appealing to preempt at this point.
We’re taking a Polish couple with us, insistent that Jenn’s recent stomach problems have a direct correlation with her lack of Vodka, an overnight train, 2nd class reserved, and a list of places to eat, drink, and be merry. We’ve got a hotel for two nights, a tight budget, and an understanding that whatever happens will be strange, unexpected, and generally memorable. We’ll see how it goes.

It’s November and the topic is leaves. The location is between the sky and the earth. The question is when, why, and who leaves with him. The reason is he shouldn’t be asking. The result, a different time and place for sure. And then we all fall down, between the sky and the earth.

It’s Martial Arts class and the topic is why we eat off banana leaves in South India. The decision is that the chlorophyll is good for us, it has ATP it has energy, and that simply by eating off these leaves we are providing ourselves with fuel and nourishment. The obvious is ignored, the ignorance is obvious. The thought of my inferiority as a Martial Artist becomes a personal focus.

It’s 4:30 and the topic is getting a drink of water.

It’s 4:34 and the topic is the rest of my life, the GRE, women, heat, life on other planets, why is the tile so ugly?, why are people comfortable with each other?, Chinese Junk ships, Kurt Vonnegut, the theme music to my life, and the appropriate amount of work to do as to not disappoint but also not over-exert.

It’s 4:39 already. The topic is time, and, briefly, the point at which people give up trying to find meaning and simply accept some form of it; for example reciting prayer passages as slowly as possible for a half-hour as a form of meditation. Jenn, Christian and I tried this last week at a free seminar with a fortunately-worded advertisement. I memorized the prayer of St. Francis; Christian repeated three lines of something having to do with light vs. dark and life vs. death; and Jenn said “baruch atah adonai” over and over again for some reason. In it’s favor the half hour of meditation passed surprisingly quickly and I found it a good opportunity to work on my posture, and there were fresh brownies.

Talk amongst yourselves.

future of music

this article is about the death of Oink, my beloved music downloading site, and the future of the music industry. I liked it.

LESSON IN LOCAL CULTURE III

Local: tack on a G, swap the C for a B, and what do you get—Global. That’s right, just a few letters difference. And who can make that difference? You! So let’s C what you can B, and tell your Gs too!

Christian threw his passport in the trashcan five minutes before heading to Africa.

Christian threw his passport in the trashcan five minutes before heading to Africa. Everyone at the driving range was Korean. China has only one time zone. Twenty-six-year-old Polish physics majors sometimes bun you CDs with “Enigma” on them.

Biking through rush-hour traffic feels like smoking 5 packs of cigarettes. I’ve been to 11 countries in my life. Change is good. Change is bad. How did the world go’ round without cell phones?

Christian came all the way back from the airport to find his passport in the trashcan. Today is one of my best childhood friend’s 24th birthdays. We hugged for the first goodbye but shook hands for the second.

In elementary school I memorized the name and capital of every country in Africa. If you’re in Western China and you cross the border time must skip about 5 hours. We don’t talk anymore but we are friends on facebook. There’s things I can’t say in this blog because certain people are probably reading it.

I’ve never seen Casablanca, but I’ve rented it twice. We have two Rough Guides to South India and one for all of India. Diwali, the Hindu New Year, is this Thursday. Indian fireworks lack a visual aspect, but they make up for it in sound. The louder the better the more celebratory. A person can get used to anything.

Kingfisher is the only beer for sale in this state and also the most luxurious Indian airline, same owner. Christian says it’s “so legit” and that they give you menus and scarves. Everyone just watches bad movies in planes now, as if they needed an excuse. Sometimes I think in song lyrics. Sometimes I sing my thoughts. Sometimes I sing songs.

The first song I memorized all the lyrics too was “Self-Esteem” by Offspring; Christian played that song this weekend without knowing this. We sang along. He’s going to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, which apparently only takes 7 days and thousands of people do it every year. But do it soon, the ice cap is determined to leave. Sometimes I find it hard to justify not devoting my life to saving the environment, the other times I find it too depressing.

Toilet paper is a waste. Auto rickshaws are a waste. Jealousy is a waste…The pollution made Sarah feel sick the whole time she was here. At least that’s what she thought. Half the world seems to be flooding or burning. Tara books is having a seasonal promotion; free shipping and free gift wrapping, a free note from Ari if you request. Don’t throw your passport in the trashcan. Not yet.