I feel like EIGHT LEVELS OF GARBAGE today because my brain is phenomenal at taking really good news and turning it into sadness.
So here’s some more zodiac sillies, ‘cause screw it all.
That Aquarius/Sagittarius one at 8:13 really got me laughing, haha. I was not expecting that at all.
So 2020 is already a flaming hot pile of GARBAGE and I hate it.
What a shock.
So because I feel like my entire life is not worth living anymore and because I have absolutely no motivation to exist, you’re getting a crappy blog post.
(As opposed to…?)
I enjoy “Zodiac signs as…” things, so we’re gonna do those today. ‘Cause I need something that will make me laugh or I’m going to go find the nearest bridge and go weeeeeeeee.
The Luminaries: A Novel, by Eleanor Catton
“It is 1866, and Walter Moody has come to make his fortune upon the New Zealand goldfields. On arrival, he stumbles across a tense gathering of twelve local men, who have met in secret to discuss a series of unsolved crimes. A wealthy man has vanished, a whore has tried to end her life, and an enormous fortune has been discovered in the home of a luckless drunk. Moody is soon drawn into the mystery: a network of fates and fortunes that is as complex and exquisitely patterned as the night sky.”
The twelve locals, from what I’ve read, are supposed to be characters representing the twelve signs of the western zodiac. It just sounds like a really interesting story. I think I shall read it (at some point when I make it through my list and run out of Leibniz books).
Here’s more “Claudia is bored” random thingies.
I have 111 friends on Facebook. I wanted to see the distribution of birthdays across the months (and the zodiac signs, because why not?). So I Facebook stalked everyone and found that 97 of my 111 friends had their birthdays listed (at least month and day). Here’s the distribution by month:
I knew I had a lot of February, May, and November, but I didn’t know I had so many April and July. Haha, look at August and September. Very interesting, especially in comparison to this.
And here’s some zodiac just ‘cause:
So I was dicking around with drawing ideas this evening and eventually started thinking about something cool to do with the zodiac signs. I was scribbling Aquarius’ sign everywhere when I considered how similar it looks to the “approximately equals” sign.
Which led to this:
I wanted to find commonly-used math symbols that best matched the shape of the actual zodiac symbols to give you MATH ZODIAC, but for some of them I had to take a little artistic license. Virgo and Scorpio, I’m looking at you (yes, I just took Virgo’s “M” shape and made it an “N,” deal with it).
And for those of you screaming, “hey u cant mix mathz with pseudoscience SHAME lolz,” I say, “screw you.” Plus, now instead of saying “Taurus” when people ask you your sign, now you can reply “Universal Quantifier!” and confuse the hell out of them. Upturned A’s are cooler than bulls anyway.
Also, as I was waking up this morning, I swear I was trying to explain Euler’s Identity to my cat. Not sure how successful I was considering I was half asleep and she’s a cat.
I have my first ounce of legitimate free time today and what do I do with it?
“I GOTTA ANALYZE SOME DATA!”
Today’s feature: analyzing Nobel laureates by birth dates.
Nobel Prizes are awarded for achievement in six different categories: physics, chemistry, physiology/medicine, literature, peace, and economic sciences. Thus far, there have been 863 prizes awarded to individuals and organizations.
The Nobel website has a bunch of facts on their laureates, including a database where you can search by birthday. So because I’m me and I like to analyze the most pointless stuff possible, here’s what today’s little flirtation with association entails:
1. Does the birth month of the laureate relate in any way to the category of the award (chem, medicine, etc.)?
2. Does the zodiac sign of the laureate in any way to the category of the award?
Vroom, vroom! Let’s do it.
Pre-Analysis: Examining the data
So I should preface this. I decided, upon inspecting the observed contingency table comparing Birth Month and Award Category, to drop the Economics prize altogether. I calculated that the expected cell counts would be very small (because the Economics category is actually the newest Nobel category); such small cell counts would totally throw the chi-square test. So we’re stuck with the other five categories for our analysis.
Question 1: Relation of birth month to award category
Treating Birth Month as a categorical variable (with categories January – December) and Award Category as another categorical variable (with categories equal to the six award categories), I performed a chi-square test to examine if there is an association between the two categories.
Results: χ2 (45)= 81.334, p = 0.0007345. This suggests, using a critical value of .05, that there is a significant relationship between birth month and award category.
Examining the contingency table again (which I’d post here but it’s being a bitch and won’t format correctly, so I’m just going to list what I see):
- Those born in the summer months (June – August) and the months of late fall (October, November) tend to own the Peace and Literature prizes.
- August-, September-, and October-born have most of the Physics prizes.
- The Chemistry prizes seem pretty evenly distributed throughout the months.
- The summer-born seem to have the most awards overall.
Question 2: Relation of zodiac sign to award category.
I suspected this to have a similar p-value, just solely based on the above analysis.
Results: I get a χ2 (54) = 199.8912, p < 0.0001. So this suggests, using our same cutoff value, that there is a significant relationship between zodiac sign and award category. Which makes sense, considering what we just saw with the months. But what’s interesting is that just by looking at the size of the chi-square this relationship is actually stronger than the above one.
Looking at the contingency table for this relationship, here are a few of my observations:
- Aries, Gemini, Virgos, and Libras own the Medicine awards.
- Cancers, Sagittarians, and Aquarians own the Physics awards.
- The first five zodiac signs (Aries – Leo) seem to dominate Literature.
- Capricorns are interesting. They have the least amount of awards overall, but 30% of the awards they do have are in Peace. That’s far more (percentage-wise) than any other sign. Strange noise.
OKAY THAT’S ALL.
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.
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).
Yes, I’m satisfying my ego with help of the Zodiac, despite the fact that it, though surprisingly accurate for me, is probably full of as much trickery as any “organized religion.”
Background: I’ve been surfing around on the internet all day for quotes about Aquarians. Here are the best:
“Aliens do exist. We call them ‘Aquarians.'”
“They have a love to which no other sign’s love can compare.”
“Nobody can survive without water.”
“Aquarius: they are nice and fucked in the head.”
“Who gives to all a helping hand,
But bows his head to no command–
And higher laws doth understand?
Inventor, genius, superman–
Aquarius.” (my personal favorite)
Yeah, there are just a few, but it was fun regardless. And no offense to any other sign; you know I love you all. Yes, even you Sagittarians.
Another point of interest: don’t you find the synonyms for the word “trinket” to be the coolest words in the English language? Observe: “bagatelle, bauble, bibelot, curio, doodad, gadget, ornament, sparkler, trifle”…it’s all so splendid.
What do you people want, I’m bored and desperate for school to start again!
Edit: Oh, and read Sartre’s “The Age of Reason.” Good book.
I loves me some Zodiac. These are “darkside Zodiacs” I found off of some random website. Aries and Virgo make me laugh especially.
Overwhelming, overbearing, overconfident. You are the zodiac’s permanently enraged adolescent. You have what nice social workers call “a problem with authority.” No one has ever explained the phrase “consequences of your actions” to you; consequently, your hospital’s ER is your second home. Subtle you’re not. No one will ever find you sitting quietly in a corner brooding on life’s great mysteries—or sitting quietly anywhere. You blunder through the world like Tigger gone rouge. Fortunately, you can be easily distracted by bright light, loud noises, meat, fire, blood, and knives. On good days, this means a neighborhood barbeque. On bad days, World War III.
Obdurate, opinionated, overpowering. What you really like is stuff: in your mouth, in your bank, in your bed, in the bag. You stubbornly refuse to accept the folk wisdom that tells us we can’t always get what we want. Possessive seems too weak a word. Although you are not a people person, while you have them under your hand you are possessive, jealous, and resentful of them, too. Your children try to leave home the minute they can crawl. Your little bully brain can’t compute more than two variables at once, so when faced with something complex or unusual, you go rigid and do what you have always done, which often means doing nothing at all.
Feckless, reckless, two-faced. There is no cunning so low you can’t limbo under it, no scam so complex that you can’t get your devious mind around it. You are the con artist, yet in spite of this you are never satisfied with what you get. You charge about in a restless miasma of noise, change, bells and whistles—and the manufacturers of Ritalin rub their hands in glee. You are in a permanent midlife crisis of your own making. Call you irresponsible? If it came to a choice between feeding your children and an invitation to join an exclusive high-stakes poker game—no contest. You might even sell the kids.
Graceless, gloomy, grudge-encrusted. You distrust life and have no faith in the future. To build immunity against fate’s random cruelty, you look for homeopathic doses of gloom wherever you are. You remember everything nasty anybody’s ever said about you but you never, ever give away your own emotional secrets. People think this is because you are shy and diffident (you work hard to promote that illusion) but actually, it’s because you are afraid that people might use them against you. You may forgive, but you never forget. If you ever feel in danger of enjoying yourself, you activate your powerful fret drive so that you can worry ceaselessly about stuff you can do nothing about.
Bossy, boastful, bombastic. You never really got beyond what child psychologists call the “terrible twos.” You absolutely have to be adored—by everybody—at all times. This lust for adoration is often your downfall because you are very easily flattered and you believe every word. You expect the world to revolve around you. When it doesn’t, you plunge into grand imperial sulk mode until someone comes along to fix it. And you are never, ever wrong. Even when you are wrong, you have people whose job it is to redefine wrong or recalibrate the world so that you are right, looked at from a certain angle.
Peevish, pedantic, perfectionist. When you are hot on the anti-hypocrisy crusade, the first casualties are diplomacy, tact, and basic manners. If asked a simple question that anticipates a simple answer (e.g. “does my butt look big in this?”), not only do you reply, “Well, sure it does, lardass,” but you kindly go on to give your estimate of exactly how much bigger than the norm it looks, in both standard and metric measurements. Because of this, few people ask your advice about anything. That doesn’t stop you from giving it. You are never wrong, but you secretly fear the possibility that you might be, but you’d kill rather than admit it.
Shallow, superficial, shrewd. You may smile for the cameras, but underneath you are an antsy malcontent, restlessly searching for satiation. Whenever you get what you want, you don’t want it. As you can’t fill the void with stuff, you turn to other people. You simply can’t help using them. You’re not the sweet, helpless little cupcake you want us to think you are, are you? Your unique selling point is your famous inability to make a decision. You know that when you dither deliciously with admirers over two gorgeous gifts, chances are that if you dither long enough, you’ll get both
Intense, ruthless, domineering. Your favorite sport is competition and you have to have the last spiteful word or your day is just ruined. You have never been known to apologize for anything, since it would make you look weak; nor do you grant second chances. If people let you down, you shun them. You are up there with the Amish on shunning. If it wasn’t for your self-destructive streak and obsession with sex, the rest of us would be in trouble, for you will stop at nothing to get what you want, even if it means a global meltdown. Fortunately, you are often so fixed on taking things to the edge that you fall off, and you can always be distracted by lust.
Brash, crass, tactless. You are the zodiac’s mindless hooligan. You may be loudmouthed and impetuous, but you aren’t stupid, and you know that you should at least look a bit remorseful when caught with the smoking gun. That does not mean you didn’t do it, or that you won’t do it again, because you love the rush of sheer naughtiness. No one keeps you on a tight rein, or any rein at all. You crash your way through any barriers, even those set up for your safety. And tact? Your best friend loses a leg in a terrible accident. You immediately ask if you can have their $90 shoes.
Petty, parsimonious, pessimistic. You may say that you are insecure inside (so who isn’t?) but it doesn’t help that you come on so ultra-respectable and old-at-heart on the outside. You’d do absolutely anything to preserve your social status. You’d also prefer to keep your ruthless, pathological ambition under wraps, in case anyone notices what you are doing and pulls away the ladder. The real reason for all your penny-pinching and wet-blanketing is to conserve your resources and energy for what you actually want to do—and the general folk opinion is that you are on cups-of-sugar-borrowing terms with Beelzebub.
Aloof, arrogant, alien. You are a chilly-hearted, disengaged observer of the human condition who has never knowingly reacted spontaneously to any experience. Whatever you’re doing, the inner you is busy making observations and taking notes. Your diaries are written to give you something sensational to read on the return trip to Betelgeuse. You signal your contrariness by dressing in eccentric garments to ensure that we all recognize your fascinating otherness. You get out of all the dull stuff like social engagements and having a job by coming up with a work of unsurpassingly staggering genius every now and again. And that’s easy.
Confused, chaotic, contradictory. Your natural habitat is murky emotional depths, where you drift about vaguely, moaning about the intolerable pressure the world puts you under. You have the willpower of a marshmallow. Anyone who has to deal with you should always carry a tape recorder—anything agreed upon two minutes ago you will deny utterly two minutes later. What you want now is never what you will want in one minute. You have instantaneous mood changes; you set out full of optimism and jollity, but by the time you get to the end, you are one with Eeyore and everybody else has lost the will to live.
I’m surprised I haven’t done this yet:
MY RANKING OF THE ZODIAC!! I hope I don’t insult anyone…
1. Aquarius—Mozart. Chekov. Lincoln. Darwin. What do all these kick-ass dudes have in common? THEY’RE AQUARIANS! Aquarians seemed to be destined either for greatness (Mozart) or great disaster (Dan Quayle). Either way, you’ve got an interesting character! Win!
2. Scorpio—with the nickname of, “the sex sign”, how could I NOT put Scorpio second on the list? Favorite activities include having sex, thinking about sex, and thinking about sex with someone other than the person with whom they are currently having sex. Favorite numbers include 69 and 96. Favorite letters are X, X, and X. I love these guys.
3. Leo—ah, yes…the “but enough about me, what do you think about me?” people. The narcissists. How could one not love a narcissist (especially the narcissist himself)? They like the mirror rooms at the fair. They like to masturbate.
I think I’ve run this one into the ground.
4. Capricorn—what the hell is a “sea goat?” It’s like a Pisces mated with a Sagittarius or something. Hmm…a fish getting it on with a centaur…
Okay, that’s done with. Except for my dad, all the Capricorn’s I’ve met (all three of them!) have been pretty cool.
5. Taurus—these people seem to cling to me, for some reason. What’s up with that? Why do I get along with Taureans so well? Maybe it’s because they’re so nice—or maybe because, deep down, they know that I’m just full of bull.
NOTE: do not attempt to run down the streets of Spain while being chased by these guys. You’ll get messed up.
6. Libra—haha, Librans. There are the good ones—my cat—and the annoying ones—Aneel’s brother. Some are vindictive and needy in a good way, others are vindictive and needy in the typical way the words “vindictive” and “needy” are perceived. Haha, Librans. Love ’em.
7. Virgo—The obsessive-compulsive, nit-picky, hypochondriac of the zodiac group. Either you love ’em or you hate ’em. Unless you are one, and in that case, you’re probably too busy making sure the margins of this blog are in the correct format to actually read what I wrote.
8. Pisces—I honestly don’t have anything against Pisces…I just can never spell “Pisces” correctly.
9. Aries—Mr. Hothead. Mr. A.D.D. These guys are great. Candida’s an Aries, which explains away a freaking lot of her screeching. If all Aries are like Candida, then the whole world will go completely deaf in approximately 7 years.
10. Gemini—I’ve only met one Gemini, so I don’t really have much to base my argument off of. Therefore, Gemini goes right under the last sign (of which I’ve met more than two people)
11. Cancer—Kinda in the same situation as Gemini, only worse—I’ve never met a Cancer (well, of course I have, but not for a long enough period to get to know them). So here they sit—in 11th place, just because I’ve never made contact with one.
12. Sagittarius—I’ve met a Sagittarius. I’ve met many of them. I have yet to figure one of these people out. Seriously. No consistent traits whatsoever. People of every other sign share at least one similar trait—at least, they do in my eyes. But not the little Sagittarians. Are they fickle? Are the neat-freaks? Are they psychopaths? Who knows? I certainly don’t.