Saturday Night Nightmares
You guys sick of reading about my dreams yet? Well too bad, ‘cause here’s another one.
It’s the not-too-distant future and apparently the entire northern West Coast, from Northern California all the way up through the coast of Alaska, has been infected with this rare and 100% deadly virus. The scientists don’t know what caused it, don’t know how to cure it or contain it, but know that it’s spreading east at an alarming rate and will surely wipe out the North American population within like two years’ time.
So the few bigwig science guys still alive on the West Coast have to come up with this idea to somehow save the rest of the North American population while getting rid of the infected coastline people as fast as possible.
In the meantime, every person I know has gotten sick with the disease and has either died a horrific, disfiguring death or is in the process of doing so. Well, everybody except my grandma (the one that hates me because I’m my father’s spawn). My mom (who has been infected but isn’t dead yet) are talking about what my grandma’s going to do and my mom’s like, “I think she’s going to move north.” And somehow I know what the scientists’ big plan is, ‘cause I reply with, “I don’t think there’s going to be much of a north left.”
So yeah. Turns out the scientists have decided that setting off a nuclear bomb right over Western Canada would be the best way to eviscerate the problem of this virus and “humanely” kill all the people still alive who are suffering from the infection.
And guess who gets the job of setting off the bomb?
ME!
The dream shifts and it’s like three weeks later in time. I’ve been briefed over what I need to do in order to set off the bomb, which is basically to press a big red switch when the timer they gave me hits zero. Everyone I know has died except for my mom, who is extremely sick and almost totally paralyzed and mute from the illness. It’s about three hours until I destroy the coast and I’m sitting on a couch in my grandpa’s old room above his garage in California. My mom’s curled up beside me with her head in my lap. She can’t move and can hardly breathe at this point. There are like seven guys sitting on the couch beside me/hanging on the back of the couch and they’re all harassing Martha Stewart, who is also there, about her stint in jail. It’s actually quite amusing, but I’m so overly anxious about the bomb that I can’t really pay attention to them.
Time keeps ticking on, and eventually we reach about a minute left on the timer. I can feel my heart pounding alongside that nervous, almost sick feeling I get before taking a test or giving a presentation. The guys and Martha Stewart have gone elsewhere and my mom and I are alone. She looks up at me and I can see in her eyes that she’s asking me when the pain will be over, so I kiss her on the forehead and say, “it will all be over soon.”
Then I actually try to push her off the couch real hard so that she’ll just die from that and not have to go through the explosion, but that doesn’t work. So I think, “screw this,” run over to the red button, and push it. There’s this HUGE cracking boom in the distance (I actually felt the sound wave hit me in the dream) and I turn to look out the big picture window behind me. Everything still looks normal, so I run downstairs and stand outside the open and empty garage.
I see this huge mushroom cloud not too far from where I am. Birds flying above me are being eviscerated by the explosion already, vaporizing as they’re trying to get away. I can see this huge gust of radioactive wind coming towards me, so I stand out in front of the garage, spread my arms, and shout “take me!” The whole time I’m thinking, “this can only hurt for a few seconds. This can only hurt for a few seconds. It’s not like I’ll feel anything after I’m dead.” And I actually feel this incredible excitement over being able to die. The wind picks up around me and I can feel these little pinpricks of radiation on my arms…
And then my damn phone alarm goes off and I wake up.
Anyway. That dream was up there with that flooding dream I had a while ago in terms of making me freak out once I actually realized it was a dream.
Fun times.
TWSB: And here’s some eye surgery to creep you out for the rest of your life
WARNING: not for the squeamish! Turn back now and don’t watch the video I link to if eye surgery/surgery in general/eye stabbing/stabbing in general grosses you out or offends you. You’ve been warned!
Anyway, I had no idea this was a thing: an iridectomy is a procedure where surgeons go into a person’s eye and remove part of the iris (the colored ring around the pupil). According to Wikipedia, it’s most commonly performed in the treatment of glaucoma and iris melanoma. Sector iridectomis leave patients with something known as a keyhole pupil, which looks like this:
Total iridectomies, as you would guess, leave patients with NO iris and a GIANT pupil.
This stuff is freaky to me.
In order to freak everyone else out, I found a video of doctors performing a peripheral iridectomy. Again, don’t watch if needles in eyes freaks you out.
I like how they have to waterjet the iris back into the eye.
Actually, I’m surprised at how little info there is on this procedure, at least on the internet. I would think freaky eye stuff would get a lot of attention.
Okay, that’s all.
I’ll be your eigenvalue if you be my eigenvector
Stats humor! I’m making these my post today even though I’m pretty sure none of my followers follow me for my stats drabble.
- Q: What do you call a tea party with more than 30 people?
A: A z party!
- Day of the quiz:
Professor: “OK students, you have fifteen minutes to plot the bivariate distribution between A and B, fifteen minutes to compute the correlation between A and B, and 5 SECONDS to compute the kurtosis of B.”
One student stands up very worried: “Excuse me Professor, how can we posssibly compute a kurtosis in 5 SECONDS?”
The Professor looks at the class very reassuring: “No need to be worried, kids, IT TAKES ONLY A MOMENT!!”
- How is a normal probability distribution like a lion?
They both have a MEAN MEW.
- The Normal Curve in its critique
Is beautifully symmetrical and sleek.
Sometimes it is skinny and tall
Other times fat and real small.
But with it the data will always speak.
- Did you hear about: the statistician who was looking all over for the sum of eigenvalues from a variance- covariance matrix but couldn’t find a trace?
- Did you hear the one about the statistician?
Probably….
Hilarity.
Sources:
http://www.tealdragon.net/humor/lists/statmves.htm
http://my.ilstu.edu/~gcramsey/Gallery.html
This post sucks
I forgot I had a camera, haha. Here’s a random pic dump. Because I want to and because this week’s been boring.
Only in Idaho are cows this close to mall parking lots…
A can of Red Bull defying gravity while balanced on my knee.
Flower after a mega storm.
Party time in Brink.
END!
Are people who predict golf tournament wins considered fore-casters?
It’s in Spanish (and metric!), but here’s a site where you can input your height and weight and compare yourself to the heights/weights of (pre-2008) Olympic athletes.
I’m the same height and weight as Minke Smabers, a field hockey player from Holland. She won gold in Beijing 2008!
Who’s your Olympic height/weight equivalent?
Is the National Hunters Association considered a “hunter gatherer”?
A Big Five-type test: http://www.signalpatterns.com/personality_survey
Haha. Well. We know what I am, don’t we? I’m surprised I have an “Assertive” circle at all.
“Responsible”, “Buttoned-Down”, “Astute”, “Competent.” I sound like the most boring person ever.
Also, “Excitable” + “Passionate” = me spazzing about R.
Blah, nervous about tomorrow.
Welcome to “Random Crapatorium Stupid Stuff Central”
The sequential flow of this is dlfgaoghgfh.
- I discovered today that I can imitate Barney Rubble perfectly. Please don’t ask how I found that out.
- I get depressed when I don’t do enough statistics.
- I wish I had some modicum of intelligence to me. I mean seriously. I’m dumb. Dumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumb.
- People who spam Facebook with their inane drabble really bother me. Shut up, people, that’s what a blog is for.
- Speaking of inane drabble, I may have mentioned on here that I’m planning on blogging daily until I reach my 10,000th post. That will occur on September 15, 2033. 21 years, 2 months, and 7 days from now (total = 27 years, 4 months, 15 days). If my yearly word count will remain stable (average for last six years = 103,245), I’ll have a total word count of about 2,830,000 words. That doesn’t sound like much, actually. But 10,000 posts does. Bring it on.
- I had a dream about English parts of speech the other night. It was short and kind of cool. MAYBE A FLASH?!?
- Excitement + fear + future + being a failure = my life right now.
- I was feeling okay most of today. Now I’m depressed as all hell.
- Edit: Okay, nevermind.
Even though you’re expecting it from the title, it’s still so ridiculously perfect it’ll make you laugh. Made me laugh, at least.
Blog done.
Recursion, thy name is Recursion, thy name is Recursion, thy name is Recursion…
I don’t like this one, but I don’t have anything else for today’s blog.
So here you go.
The end.
Edit: hahahaha, scratch that. Here’s Nathan Explosion scat singing. Made. My. Night.
Edit 2: that was…dude…cannot wait for the season finale.
*Someone’s* getting a raise…
So I just saw the laziest political slogan/catchphrase ever.
My mom and I were driving to go look at kitties this afternoon. One of the little political yard signs we passed was this:
“It’s time for a new sheriff.” Say it in your head just like that, not putting the natural emphasis on “new.”
My first reaction was, “well, yeah, technically. Since it’s election time and all…”
Then I laughed for about half an hour straight. It reminded me of that news story headline a couple years ago: “Plumbing Store’s Inventory Destroyed by Flooding.”
Life’s hilarious sometimes.
I’M A’ IRONIN’ MAH BLAZER!!
I’ll treat you like a number, but not to your face,
‘Cause when push comes to shove, you’re no more than a case;
A number, a letter, a five-digit code,
You may be an outlier, you may be a mode.
But regardless your leverage, you’re part of a trend,
And although your uniqueness you try to defend,
You’re a subject, a datum, a point on the line.
You’re a deviant measure whose error defines
The strength of my model, statistically speaking,
The possibly viable explanation I’m seeking,
For the pattern I see in the points on the plane,
Of which you’re a part, to which you pertain.
So apologies if you’re just a number to me,
A value I enter to calculate p.
But if my study is sound and the data are true,
It might give some insight as to why you are you.
WHY AM I WRITING STATISTICS POETRY
This started from an Omegle conversation, I swear to god.
I think Scooby Doo is in my pants
So.
Due to multiple reasons (some health-related, some family-related, some money-related), I have been without a solid plan for my near/intermediate future for approximately 7 months now. Being without said plan has been slowly destroying my will to live.
So I’m sick of it.
But now I’m conflicted over what to do. There aren’t any stats jobs in Tucson or in the surrounding area. In fact, around the country there are very few entry-level stats jobs. Even for freaking PhD students…everyone’s looking for statisticians with like 10+ years of experience (not exaggerating).
So here’s how I see it: I’m the type of person who either needs to be in a field where I can obsess over doing stuff I love (read: statistics), or I need to be acquiring more knowledge in some sort of full-time or at least mostly-full-time type of environment.
So if a job isn’t happening at the moment, what’s left?
SCHOOL!
I guess I was never really conflicted about that. I pretty much figured I’d return to school someday because that’s just the type of person I am. So what’s the conflict?
Do I…
A) Stay down here and go to school at my place of employment, Pima Community College (it’s too late to register for the University of Arizona, I don’t have THAT much money, and I’m still technically an out-of-state resident so $$$$$$$$!),
or…
B) Go back to the black hole that is Moscow and play out my dream schedule for fall (I’m already enrolled and set for tuition payments).
Pros for Option A
- Not having to move again
- Still in the same city as my mom, which is a big deal to both of us
- Cheap as hell; totally tuition-free if I keep working there
- SCHOOL!
Cons for Option A
- Tucson is…blah.
- PCC doesn’t have a lot of *advanced* classes, which is where I am in a lot of stuff pertaining to my education (except calc…I’d like to review basic calc until it makes perfect sense in my head).
- If I were to transfer to UA, again, $$$$$$$$$!
- I’d probably have to keep my current job. It’s an okay job, but it’s not ideal.
Pros for Option B
- Dream schedule! Seriously. It’s awesome.
- My dad’s like “rent-free living in the basement if you take care of the house while I’m gone” (which would be for approximately 33% of the year, maybe a little more now). I also think he’s lonely.
- MY KITTY CAT IS THERE OMFG I MISS HER
- It’s the U of I, meaning that I know that damn school inside and out and can get exactly what I want out of it
Cons for Option B
- Moscow is…Moscow.
- I’d have to live with my dad. I shouldn’t put this as a con because he’s offering free rent (shut up, selfish brain, shut up!), but if you’ve ever lived with my dad, you’d totally understand this point.
- Moving. AGAIN.
- Being away from my mom. We’re close, shut up.
So yeah. I have no idea what I’ll do. Plus, if I go back, I’ll have to face all the “I thought you were in grad school?” questions, to which I’ll have to answer “I was, and I’m done, but…” And we all know how judgmental people are.
BLAHSEKLDHFSDLFSWEERLWchicken.
TWSB: Waiter! There’s a Higgs-Boson in my Universe!
(Happy birthday, United States!)
So I’m bringing back my This Week’s Science Blogs. Because.
HIGGS BOSON, GUYS!!
Why this news isn’t being vomited from every front page of every news organization is beyond me. Actually it’s not—people want Kardashians, not science—but still.
HIGGS. BOSON.
Even if it does turn out that the scientists just thought they found the H.B. instead of actually finding it, this is a big deal, people.
I think things like this are most easily explained using pictures/animation, so here are two of the clearest/simplest explanation videos I could unearth. Pretty snazzy!
Bobmania
Hahaha, this is a fantastic article.
It details the decline in the number of men named “Bob” participating in major sports.
“Nearly two thousand men named Bob have played in major American sports. Bob Sanders is still playing, but he is the only one. Here, we attempt to come to grips with the most pressing crisis in major athletics.”
Fun phrases include: “Bob-athletes”, “Bobhood”, and the “Bobs Are Overwhelmingly Fat/White/Old Theory.”
And even though it’s a minor thing, it makes me really happy that the author mentioned covariates that may also be causing the decline in Bob-athletes other than just fewer Bobs playing sports (fewer Bobs overall, fewer names shortened to “Bob” due to various reasons). That made Stats Claudia happy.
Oh, and for anyone wondering…
Robert/Roberto and Bob/Bobbie/Bobby trends for boys over the past century or so.
This is also humorous to me because my dad is a “Bob.”
I ATE EIGHT EYES
4001. How would you rate your sex drive?
It’s under NEGATIVE NINE THOUSAND!!
4002. You are sitting alone with a stack of videos and a vcr. Of the following which are you most likely to put on (1 is most, 10 is least)
(lawl, “vcr”)
The good the bad and the ugly,
6
dracula,
5
slc punk,
9
twin peaks fire walk with me,
7
jerry springer too hot for tv,
10
singing in the rain,
4
flash gordon,
3
the matrix,
2
blade runner,
8
the muppet movie
1
4003. Are you more likley to get or send random instant messages?
Get.
4004. If you were writing an ad telling people to come to your town what would you say about it?
Tucson: like living on the surface of the sun, but without the hazards of space travel!
4005. What part of your body can you not stand to get an itch on?
The inside of my ear.
4006. How many people do you suppose have stolen that System of a Down album called ‘steal this album’?
Haha, I saw a used copy of that at Hasting’s once with a sticker on it that read “stealing this album will result in appropriate prosecution.”
4008. would you rather have a poster of john lennon or a cute fuzzy black cat?
KITTY!
4009. make a public service announcement:
The Oxford comma’s totally hip now. Use it.
4010. What makes you feel the need to escape?
Not having plans.
4011. You and your signifigant other, crush, interest etc…who is the ernie and who is the bert?
I don’t really have an “interest” right now, but I think we’d both be Berts. I don’t think I’d usually have an interest in an Ernie.
4012. When was the last time you did something and later asked yourself ‘did I do the right thing?’?
HA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHA…
Ha…
Oh, I’m sad now.
4013. What do you find it hard to say goodbye to?
The past.
4014. What is your fantasy valentine’s day like?
I’m having fun and I’m not alone. That’s about as far as I’ve fantasized for Valentine’s Day.
4015. If you had to have a color for a name, what color would it be?
RADICAL CARROT. Oh my god. I might have to go change my name like right now.
4016. Should preference be given to minority students during the college admission process?
In an ideal world, it wouldn’t HAVE to be.
4017. Sweet wine, fresh crisp appples, bagles with creme cheese and lox…what is the most incredibly luxurious food?
German chocolate cake is pretty far up there for me.
4018. Is there really anything to fear in communism?
There’s something to fear in everything.
4019. Best sesame street character:
Grover’s a BAMF.
most annoying sesame street character:
I never liked Elmo much.
4020. feast or famine?
Famine.
4021. Write a poem right here in five minutes or less:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Datum means one
Data means two.
(Or more.)
Sorry, that was totally lame.
4022. Do you stay and help clean up after a party?
I would, yes. I haven’t been to a party in like 4,000 years.
4024. What are you the prince or princess of?
Anxiety.
4025. Some people think that Christmas should be taken off of public school calanders because it is politically incorrect. What aould you say to this?
Pfft. People are way too uptight about these kinds of things.
4026. Would you rather go to an excorcism or a step aerobics class?
Hahahahahaha. I’ll take aerobics, thanks.
4027. Do you believe in spells and curses?
Nope.
4028. What tv show does your family watch together?
My mom and I watch DVR’ed Daily Show and Colbert Report every once and awhile.
4029. What’s on your calander this year?
A bunch of weeks. A couple months. 181 more days to screw up.
4030. Is anything ruining your life?
Yes.
What?
Myself.
4031. How was life meant to be lived?
Happily.
4032. What is your usual breakfast?
A scrambled egg with lots of pepper.
4033. If you had kids, would you worry about what they did online?
Probably. I think I’d be the most anxiety-riddled parent on the planet. Either that or I’d let my little dude do whatever and assume he’s got some common sense.
4034. Will you be maxin and relaxin this weekend?
What does that even mean?
If not, what are your weekened plans?
Wait! I need to know what “maxin’ and relaxin’” is so that I can tell you if I plan to do otherwise!
4035. Who has the most interesting story to tell:
someone who used to fly to asia as a drug trader
the ceo of Nike
a nyc homeless person
a preacher’s wife
Probably the homeless person.
4036. What do you have a bad feeling about?
The rest of my life.
4037. Do you have a lot to say?
About some things, yes.
4038. If a smallpox vaccine was offered to you, would you take it?
Eh.
4039. Would you ever work at a kissing booth?
No one would pay to kiss me.
how about a dunking booth?
That’d be fun.
4040. There is a woman who paints by stripping naked, rolling around in paint and then pressing her body against the canvas. What do you think of her art?
That’s…interesting.
4041. Have you ever bought something you saw on tv?
Haven’t we all?
4043. Have you gone mental?
Probably.
4044. What do you think of jews for jesus?
Haha, sounds interesting.
4045. Has anyone ever tried to ‘save’ you?
Yes. Obviously it didn’t work.
4046. Quick! picture santa clause in your head…
Okay.
Was he black or white when you pictured him?
Haha, it was actually Santa Bot from Futurama. So he was grey.
4047. Would you ever buy a black santa clause?
Sure. Good luck finding one in AZ, though.
4048. or take your kids to vist a black santa clause?
Sure.
why or why not?
Seriously?
4049. What do you smell like?
Good question.
4050. What kind of soup do you eat?
I’m not much of a soup person.
4051. What have you heard about the next Harry Potter book?
Haha. Old survey.
Will you pre-order it?
I’m not a Harry Potter fan.
4052. Would you rather go out or stay in?
Stay in.
4053. What’s your favorite song to hear on halloween?
I’ve always liked The Monster Mash.
4054. What song makes you feel all tingly like you want to laugh and scream and cry?
Sleepyhead!!
4055. If you were starting a website that was not about you, what Would it be about?
Statistics.
4056. Do you ever take the long way just for fun?
Yup!
4057. ‘..and god said let there be ____and there I was.’
Fill in the blank, as if if you were talking about yourself.
“Rainbows!”
4058. What do you think of when you hear the word ‘mill’?
Windmills.
4059. What do you think of when you hear the name:
weird al?
Childhood
bob dylan?
Mumbling
michael jackson?
Moonwalking
henry rollins?
Who?
billy idol?
White Wedding.
gary numan?
Cars.
will smith?
Switch.
paul mcartney?
Apples.
alice cooper?
Makeup.
J Lo?
Butts
4060. What is one social disaster you have had?
My life?
4061. Can you moonwalk?
I don’t think I’ve ever tried.
4062. If a presidential candidate went on late night tv, picked up a guitar and rocked out on it and could really play, would that influence you to like/respect them more?
I’d be impressed with them, but if I didn’t agree with them politically I still would vote for my guy (even if he was totally musically inept).
4064. If it was possible for people to instantly change from one sex to another, would everyone be straight in the end?
HA. No.
Would you change your sex?
I’ve got Claude. I don’t need to.
4065. Finish the sentance: nobody broke your heart, if you’re alone…
It ain’t nobody’s fault but your own (had to make it rhyme. Sorry.)
4066. Would you rather have a best friend OR a boyfriend/girlfriend on a Friday night?
Neither. I like to be alone on Friday nights.
4067. Would a woman rather be complimented about her intelligence OR her looks?
*I* would rather be complimented on my intelligence.
4068. Do you tend to think of the right thing to say after the moment is gone?
Sometimes.
4069. Would you rather a potential mate have nice hair OR nice legs?
Hahaha. Hair.
4070. Okay,…. nice hair OR a nice rack/bulge?
Hair.
4071. What is one thing you thought you would enjoy, but actually didn’t?
GRAD SCHOOL OH MY GOD
4072. Be in the spotlight OR in the shadows?
Spotlight.
4073. What is your favorite part of the newspaper?
Comics!
4074. What in your life has been an “acquired taste” for you?
Sanity.
4075. Do you find sunlight makes you happier?
It makes me forget the doldrums of Vancouver where I spent 2 miserable years of my life. So yes.
4076. If you could conquer one fear, it would be…?
My fear of being inadequate.
4077. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever seen someone do or heard anyone has done?
That’s a very hard question. Have you SEEN the internet?
4078. How do you feel about the fact that J-Lo earns 37 million dollars a year?
That’s disturbing.
Do you buy anything that contributes to her salary?
I don’t think so.
Is J Lo the ultimate ideal of what a woman should be?
Maybe to some people.
4080. Worst fashion mistake EVER:
Haha. Me.
4082. Is there a musical performer more ridiculous than Avril Lavigne (I don’t think there is)?
Hey, Avril’s not so bad.
4083. What is the best:
daytime talk show?
I have no idea.
late night talk show?
Again, no idea.
4084. Are you afraid of total freedom?
I don’t know.
4085. Do you live in an invisible prison?
How would I know if I did? I haven’t run into any of the bars yet.
4086. Who do you feel distant from, that you used to be close to?
Pretty much all my friends. And not just physically.
4087. Rate the following song lyrics (1 = you like it the most, 9 = you like it the least).
Maybe you shouldn’t care/throw away those dreams/& dare
1
Eden lets me in/I find the seeds of love/And climb upon the highwire/I kiss and tell all my fears
7
I know the pressure is on/In a race for the life of endless love/If it seems to much/Remember/All these things are endless
5
I see the wind, oh I see the trees/Everything is clear in my heart/I see the clouds, oh I see the sky/Everything is clear in our world
6
Inflatable doll/Lover ungrateful/I blew up your body/But you blew my mind
5
Well I jumped into the river/too many times to make it home/I’m out here on my own/drifting all alone/and if it doesn’t show/ give it time/to read between the lines
4
The very thought of you makes/My heart sing/Like an April breeze/On the wings of spring/And you appear in all your splendor/My one and only love
8
now I’ve had lots of girls/most of them from other worlds/but lookin through the galaxey/the valley girls are the ones for me
9
I’m the dandy highwayman so sick of easy fashion/the clumsy boots, peek-a-boo roots that people think so dashing/so what’s the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?/it’s kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he’s making
4
4088. Can you name any of the nine bands/songs above?
GUNS N’ ROSES…the last one’s Atom Ant…that’s about all I know.
4089. What would your reaction be if a total stranger called to say s/he loved you and told you that you were to pass the message on to others in a telephone call you make yourself?
I would run.
4090. Would you like to take a journey to jupiter?
Sure!
4091. Can you crack nuts in your bare hands?
Teehee.
4092. Do you take walks at night?
I used to in Vancouver. Here I’d probably get stabbed.
4093. Beavis and Butthead or daria?
Neither.
4094. Cow or chicken?
Oh my god I loved that cartoon.
Chicken.
4095. Do you think you will visit China in this life?
Doubtful.
4096. Are you having a happy day?
Meh. It’s a day.
4097. When was or will be your ‘golden birthday’ (when your age is the same as your birthdate, like turning 17 on the 17th)?
Haha, when I was two.
4098. Enlighten everyone with something profound:
I’m not wearing pants.
4099. When has the third time been the charm for you?
Hmm…not sure, actually. I can usually get things to work the first or second time.
4100. What is kinda sick, but fun?
Life.
It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
Of course, I’m talking about Gottfried Leibniz’ birthday!
The world has been without your physical presence for too long, my friend. Reincarnate so that I can date you stalk you pet your wig admire your genius in a completely appropriate and non-creepy manner.
Was going to buy some Choco Leibniz today, but I forgot. Instead, I made this:
I was listening to my music in the car the other day and realized how well Bittersweet Symphony would go with something from Coldplay. So I gave it a shot.
Happy birthday, my main man. <3
Assassinations and the Gregorian Calendar
Long-time readers of my blog may remember the post I did a long time ago in which I looked at the zodiac signs of the Presidents of the United States in conjunction with assassinations/assassination attempts.
For whatever reason, that little exploration popped back into my head the other day so I decided to do a more thorough analysis along the same lines.
I went to Wikipedia’s list of assassinated people and pulled both assassination dates and birthdates (when available) into a huge-ass dataset.
Questions of interest:
- Is there a time of the year where more assassinations have tended to occur throughout the world?
- Do assassination victims tend to be born at certain times of the year (and in certain zodiac signs, just for fun), taking into account the general overall frequencies of specific birthdays?
- (And I was going to see whether trends in assassinations differ between the continents, but I totally forgot to for this blog, haha. Maybe later.)
So! The data!
As I said, I looked at both the birthdate (when available; n = 612) and the assassination date (just month and day, not year; n = 778) for all of the victims. I didn’t think it made any sense doing any sort of paired data analysis (pairing birthdate and death date of each individual) because when you think about it, the two should be independent on one another. My being born on February 2nd shouldn’t affect the day and month on which I’d be assassinated, right?
In fact, I figured there’d be no relationship between birth date and death date at all…but I was kind of wrong.
Take a look at this plot (click to enlarge).
This shows all 1,390 points of data—the 612 birthdates and the 778 death dates—and their frequencies by month of the year. Does anybody else find the fact that the two lines are kind of a reflection of each other along a horizontal axis…strange? Especially the fall/winter months (August – March), holy crap.
Keep in mind that this is NOT paired data. Haha, I had to keep telling myself that while looking at this because I kept trying to make logical sense of it. There’s no reason (that I can think of anyway) why this pattern should be occurring, and yet there it is. Yes, I know it’s not a perfect reflection and I know that the differences in instances given the sample size are pretty small and the differences are exaggerated by the Y-axis range (my fault), but still. You have to admit that’s freaky.
Anyway.
Months in which assassinations were most common: June, February, and October.
Months in which most eventual assassination victims were born: March, January, May, and September. Nothing too remarkable; the general frequency of people born in these months versus the number of assassination victims born in these months doesn’t seem markedly different to me.
Most commonly assassinated zodiac signs: Virgo, Aries, Aquarius, and Gemini (which, if you believe in the zodiac affecting personality, could just mean that people of these signs are more apt to take positions that leave them more vulnerable to assassination attempts).
Vroom!
Sun Tans: They Don’t Happen Overnight
Here is some fun data. Or disturbing data. Depending on how you see things.
Points of interest:
- Pima Community College, where I currently work, has the third-highestgraduation numbers of all the community colleges in the US. Which doesn’t surprise me; it has like eight campuses across Tucson.
- Idaho’s higher education stats…they really blow.
Those two bars below Idaho are Alaska and Washington, D.C.
The national average percentage of students graduating in four years or less is 31.3%?
The national average percentage of students graduating in six years or less is 56.0%??
Good lord.
Of course, this is to be considered.
Every time…
…I have to present stuff I’ve worked on in front of an audience, everything breaks down and doesn’t work.
Every. Time.
*frustration frustration frustration*
At least my spreadsheet thingy worked.
Tonight’s Dream Sponsored by Every Ad I’ve Ever Seen
Who the hell dreams about Kmart?
I DO.
Picture it: it’s a few decades into the future and advertising is even more in control of our lives than it is now. You can’t buy anything without it being endorsed by some megacorporation—this includes water, keyboards, backpacks, and smaller corporations.
In the dream I’m part of this small little rebel group. We’re a bunch of young hooligans who are fighting the megacorporations. It’s later revealed that we’re actually a secret division of a much larger movement that’s actively fighting the government (sponsored by Kmart and Microsoft), trying to restore some semblance of life without “Big Advertisement.”
Actually, there’s like a full-scale civil war going on between the government/companies and this big-and-getting-bigger rebel group. There are these huge “war zones” all over the western U.S. where rebel groups have staked out “ad-free” zones and are fighting the government from within using stuff that isn’t branded (which basically leaves them with all this antiquated technology left over from before Big Advertisement took over).
My little group and I are staked out in this abandoned Circle K near the edge of the Grand Canyon. It’s dusty as hell and all the windows are blown out from the passing big company vehicles coming by and blasting missiles into abandon buildings to make sure no one is camping out there (no logical reason why we’ve been able to survive this, but whatev).
There are about ten of us and we look like we’ve just walked out of Fallout ‘cause we’re basically Wastelanders. We’ve refused to wear branded stuff so we’re dressed in these old rags and towels and toilet paper and (for whatever reason) we’ve pilfered a toolbox and are wearing its contents as jewelry (I’ve got a hammer necklace). We eat off-brand Tic-Tacs and non-government sponsored broccoli powder (which is an actual thing) to survive. We don’t drink water ‘cause Kmart owns all the pure water in the U.S., so we’ve made due drinking the soda out of the Circle K’s still-working soda machine (which is for some reason NOT government-sponsored, but whatev again).
And I guess we’ve made these elaborate plans to stage a coup and end the Big Advertisement rule once and for all. There’s this military Subway R.V. that drives by our stakeout every other afternoon. Like every other vehicle in this futuristic commercial world, it is equipped with a bunch of security cameras that record everything in a 360-degree view of the R.V. and reports the video back to the government (it also sells sandwiches, but we’re less concerned about that than we are about its spying capabilities). We’ve got these plans drawn all over the wall of the Circle K detailing our mission to destroy the Subway vehicle by launching it into the Grand Canyon.
SO. Fast-forward a bit.
It’s the day of the big attack and we’re all excited. We take a bunch of bats and crowbars and destroy the Circle K’s soda machine in a pre-coup ritual to bring good luck to the proletarian rebellion. We stand in a circle around a broken soda machine and say the Lord’s Prayer (which is like word for word; WTF, brain), except at the part when we all say “on earth as it is in heaven” I go, “except now it’s ‘on earth as it is in 7-11!’” but nobody gets it and I feel super dumb.
We gather like seven Scud missiles that were lying around inside the building—I have no idea where we got them, but they’ve got the McDonald’s logo all over them—and set them up in the windows so that when the Subway R.V. comes along, we’ll be able to fire.
Hunching beneath the windows, we wait for the R.V., which finally comes rumbling up the road. All of a sudden we all have these little Walkie-Talkies and are talking military-speak to one another, getting ready to fire. I look out the window and wait for the R.V. to pass our pre-designated mark and I shout into the Walkie-Talkie, “Launch Operation Footlong*!”
And so we blast this missile at the Subway R.V. and it goes catapulting into the Grand Canyon. We had rigged it so that we could watch what the Subway cameras was recording, and we were all laughing like devils as the monitors that miraculously appeared in our Circle K showed the R.V. going over the side of the Grand Canyon.
Some dude in our group shouts “FINGER LICKIN’ GOOD!” and everybody laughs. Except me, ‘cause I’m thinking, “you jerks, you laugh at his stupid joke but you won’t even acknowledge my awesome 7-11 pun.”
And then I woke up.
What.
*I swear to god. I can’t make this stuff up.
Oh, THAT’S why I’m single! It’s all so clear now!
I thought it was my personality…turns out it’s just my bangs/the brand of my TV/my distaste for chicken wings/the fact that I’m an only child.
This is absolutely hilarious. A lot of the comments are from ladies who appear to be super offended, but just think it’s freaking funny.
What confuses me though is who exactly their target audience is. Their little blurb reads: “We’re letting women in on a little secret. Guys make lists too. And, they just made a list that addresses a question on the minds of single women everywhere. What are the real reasons they’re still single?”
The first sentence makes it sound like it’s directed to the ladies. The last sentence/question makes it sound like the list is for dudes to print out and check off items when they go on dates.
And they refer to the offending women as “She [does such-and-such]” on their list, but use “you”—as in, “you are from Texas, vile female, and therefore deserve to be single because geographical location is directly correlated to your datability potential” in the actual explanations.
So…who are they talking to, exactly?
Haha.
Red Flag #18: she cares about 100 Red Flags.
I’d like to make one of these for data analysis. 100 Red Flags: The real reasons your analysis is wrong.
Red Flag #1: You forgot to test for equal variances, you fool!
Red Flag #35: No, no, no…it’s “correlation does NOT equal causation!”
Red Flag #88: Oh god, you’re using SPSS.
Etc.
40 Years of Boxplots? Are you serious?
It’s a paper by Hadley Wickham and Lisa Stryjewski detailing John Tukey’s 1970 introduction of the boxplot as well as changes, improvements, and adaptations to the visualization.
I’m not going to summarize it here ‘cause I think you need the visuals and I already post enough crap here without explicit permission and therefore won’t be reposting any from the article, but seriously, read it. It’s fascinating.
EVERLASTING BOSOM
Creative Muse: You must write smut!
Me: Huh?
Creative Muse: Smut! You must write it NOW!
Me: But it’s four in the morning.
Creative Muse: SMUT!
Me: Listen, Creative Muse, I’m glad you’re back and all, but if you’re going to give me the urge to write, can you please give me the urge to work on Prime?
Creative Muse: No time for numbers! You must write smut!
Me: But Prime is important. I’d really like to get another draft—
Creative Muse: WRITE SMUT OR I’M LEAVING YOU FOREVER! GET THOSE DAMN FINGERS TYPING AND WRITE SOMETHING SO UNABASHEDLY NASTY THAT EVEN CLIPPY WOULD BLUSH!!!
Me: Ugh. Fine.
The preceding was an unsolicited explanation for why I haven’t done jack shit with Prime in the last week.
Lots of smut, though, let me tell ya…
All About the Bordens
WOO, I got my Canadian tax return money!
Spend, save, or 50/50?
Spend:
– I need another Hume shirt. I use the one I have now for exercising.
– The Brave Little Toaster: Book Form!
– Perchance some Pokemon cards? I miss my Pokemon cards.
– The cutest thing eeeeeever.
– I was a fool and sold back my textbook from my nonparametric stats class way back when. So, the textbook from my nonparametric stats class.
(side note: why is Amazon recommending wedding rings to me? I don’t even have a boyfriend. I don’t even have a guy who I would consider for a possible future boyfriend. I don’t even have any friends.*)
Save:
– I might be going back to UI for MOAR DEGREEZ. Saving for that is quite important.
– As would be saving for moving anywhere across the country for a stats job.
I might just leave it all in my Canadian bank account. Emergency Canuck funds and whatnot. Plus it makes me feel like some ridiculously rich fool holding bank accounts in two countries.
*down here in Arizona, at least.
A year ago…
I defended my Master’s thesis.
That’s all I feel like saying today.
Much Ado About Bacon (or, Claudia Plays Oregon Trail III)
I can’t remember the last time I played The Oregon Trail. But I do remember that for whatever reason, I had made it my goal with each play-through to accumulate as much bacon as possible while still surviving* the trip.
Oregon Trail III (I think) had a journal feature in which you could write about your harrowing transcontinental journey. This is a saved excerpt from one of my bacon-driven travels way back when I used to have Oregon Trail on one of our computers. So who knows how old this is. Enjoy.
I now have 500 and some odd lbs. of bacon. I NEED MORE!
——
I NEED BACON!!!! BACONBACONBACON!!!
——
I cannot write the date today because I am severely weakened from lack of bacon…
——
Bacon!
——
I traded a pair of boots for 5 lbs. of bacon. If you ask me, these people have a severe bacon shortage–this must be investigated! (P.S. Who would trade their bacon for a measly pair of boots?!)
——
I traded yet another pair of boots for 10 lbs. of bacon. These people don’t seem to understand the importance of bacon and are easily coaxed into trading some sort of clothing or aloe for their precious pig meat.
——
Much success today!! I went into fort Kearny and got 22 LBS OF BACON!! Talk about a deal. Then we circled the wagons and I traded one of my chickens for 14 lbs. of bacon. But I did have a problem: there’s this one lady in our “wagon circles” who seems to be some sort of vegetarian–she never has any bacon! Actually, she could be some sort of bacon activist, and is hoarding her bacon in a secret bag wrapped in tin foil to soil the smell in her wagon. Hmm…
——
A snake bit Jeff Goldsmith. I was generous and gave him a piece of my precious bacon to rub on the wound. Of course, he got better instantly. BACON CONQUERS ALL!
——
Anna Tillman should have never agreed to come on this trip. She’s a wuss! First, while I’m hunting, she gets in my way and I shoot her! Then she discovers a truly brilliant plan of catching Cholera so’s we can pay extra special attention to her. Real dang smart. Then she gets shot again and is visited by the angel of infection. And if that wasn’t enough, she ATE SOME OF MY BACON!! ARRRRRRRRRGH!
——
What’s-her-face from yesterday’s entry’s got a cold.
——
You know, I don’t think Oregon’s so great anyway. If these guys we’re traveling with aren’t bringing bacon west, then what’s the point of settling the west?
——
You know what this trail needs? A Jack-in-the-Box.
——
ANOTHER shooting? Seriously? I thought by this date in history they’d invented aiming.
——
I am so sick of this!!!! I WANNA GO HOME!!!!
——
Let’s do the cholera dance! I have EIGHTY pounds of bacon.
——
Wait. FIFTY pounds of bacon?? Something somewhere went horribly wrong. Anna Tillman, explain yourself!
——
You know, if these people hoarded bacon like any smart individual would, we wouldn’t HAVE cholera issues, now would we? But nooooooooooo….
——
What’s-her-face from 2 entries above died. Too bad; she was a fisherwoman. Dang, the gal could catch fish.
——
Even though we suffered a death, the rest of us are all in excellent health! Even her husband! I asked him if he would like me to sit him down for some one-on-one counseling, so I could make sure he was okay, but he just said, “Naw. If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go snatch Anna darlin’s anvil. Since she won’t be needin’ it!” He seems emotionally fine.
——
I gave him bacon. I think he’s even BETTER now.
——
Okay. This lady we keep circling the wagons with, the bacon lady, still hasn’t got any bacon!!!!!! I’ve tried and tried but I haven’t got any out of her. Why do we keep circling our wagons with this family?!?! Wait….maybe they’re stalking us!!!! Oh great. Now I’m REALLY worried…
——
Bacon Lady’s got no bacon!
——
Okay. Seriously. Why don’t these people we camp with have bacon. It’s like a food group, and they’re lacking it. No WONDER people are dying like flies!
——
Dysentry: the other white meat.
——
What’s wrong with this stinkin’ trip?!? First, there’s this bear that gets in the way of a deer I was gonna shoot. So I shot the bear. I was sure there was going to be a mauling, since every other natural disaster that’s possible had happened to us up to that point. But no, no mauling. Instead we got a prairie fire. WHAT NEXT????
——
(like 20 game days later)
Oh cool, Oregon.
*survival optional for other group members.
Eigenblogger 