Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Math Abuse

For it seems to be precisely that science known by the barbarous name Algebra, if we could only extricate it from that vast array of numbers and inexplicable figures by which it is overwhelmed, so that it might display the clearness and simplicity which, we imagine, ought to exist in genuine mathematics. - Rene Descartes

A mathematician who is not also a poet will never be a complete mathematician. - Karl Weierstrass

I have lost count of the number of times asked, a variant of "why care about math?"  It seems few presentations provide good answers.

Most I have seen artless collections of exercises, possibly adequately prepared, sometimes with interjections or side boxes about the application or history of the material under discussion.  It's math neutered and overcomplexified by dense, obsessive prose

Consequently, those interested in it tend to favor gym class for the mind, unless maybe they got lucky enough to have a good teacher, are innately talented enough to see beyond the presentation, or are future scientists learning tools of their trade.

And masochists, who will almost invariably become sadists (perhaps after securing a teaching position.)

That leaves out a whole lot of people -- a bad idea when math is compulsory.  But what if math was presented widely, as a complex endeavor with thousands of years of history, diverse application, and open future?  Would it frighten children to learn that math models reality?  Would it pervert them to learn that math is the study of abstract relationships, a growing edifice built by the application of intuition to a standard of proof?

Maybe this is the first you have heard, and you don't believe me.  Try this, or this.  Both books are literary presentations of mathematics, recognizing that math is art, philosophy, and evolving.  The only thing missing are exercises, but getting through either book provides ample exercise.






Consider Calculus, a word which seems to summon the same uncomfortable awe as "jazz" or "murderer."  It is the art of things arbitrarily small, invoking infinity as a tool, and the mathematics this constructed/discovered  them vast, consistent, and pretty.  As a  means to model change, Calculus has been a cornerstone of physics for centuries, providing scripts for theories of motion, electricity, magnetism, light and heat. 

It was primarily invented, strangely, independently by two people in different countries at the same time.  One was Isaac Newton, who was creating solutions to physics problems.  The other was Gottfried Leibniz, who came at it more philosophically.  Neither was deliberately creating headaches for hapless youngsters.

Yet Calculus students will  take hundreds limits, derivatives, and/or integrals in a typical semester.  Wouldn't it be better to spend more time considering what the objects and operations actually are?   And how their existence depends on a dialogue between deduction, inspiration, and efforts to solve specific physical problems?

I knew a professor who taught Calc 1 with minimal exercises, assigning mostly proofs for homework.  He spent most of each lecture explaining the objects under consideration, and lucidly proving results.  Homework was entwined tightly with class material.  His students understood the subject on a level so far beyond the usual.

It was much more than mechanics, so students got a greater return on their investment.





Current standards create, at best, people who use math but don't understand it, and therefore don't necessarily use it well.  At worst, entire classes of students are alienated.  A solution to this problem is to mix exercises, intelligently, between proof and good writing. 

For example, consider Why Math?, an elective for anyone who has mastered current societally-necessary arithmetic.  This class presents the history of mathematics, it's development and use. Students walk away with some understanding of proof, major fields, looming concepts and problems, and how math hooks up with the natural world and psyche.

The core text is this, and Pi is recommended viewing.  Exercises are chosen to reinforce understanding of material from all presentations, not as abstract practice with no context.

New technology is not necessary for this course, and may be counterproductive.  The point being:  if you continue to spend time on nothing but the surface, you will still create drones.





PS.  Consider 2. That's the symbol for the number "two."  But where is the number?  What is the number?


Brought to you by the State Vector.


Wednesday, December 23, 2009

ConteXt

1.  There seems to be some confusion -- Monkey Shrines is not a random assemblage, unless you believe everything is random.

1a.  I am hoping to not further flood the Internet with noise. If I fail, comments are welcome, preferably with an awareness of the blog's qualities versus yours.

3.  I found out about feeds a bit too late, and though I hope I am presenting something that works both within and without the blog, I really have no idea. What I am going for is: every blog element subject to influence is given attention -- fonts, colors, general layout, the flow of one post into another, what's in the sidebar vs. what's in a post . . . it's not just about the words, but how each element can potentially interact with any other.  Something like:





Monday, December 14, 2009

NJ Buffet Masala




Never does an Indian restaurant seem to have a buffet that touches it's a la carte.  But if you want to get a notion of a lot of things at once, or just want a shameful amount of interesting and possibly nutritious food for a low price, here is a guide for Morris County and a bit of the perimeter.


Chand Palace, Parsippany

"Moon Palace" offers vegetarian food every day except Tuesday, when they are closed for lunch and offer a non-veg buffet dinner at their catering hall next door.  What you may find lacking in meatness is largely made up for by thick sauces and dairy, and an array of strong legumes.  Like every buffet I've ever met, the spicing is not overly complex, but the food is always peppery -- if there is any signature here, it is dry heat, this despite cream sauces and oily concoctions.

Every meal features rice, naan (including stuffed), and a station of accompaniments:  relishes, yogurt, and raw vegetables.  Sambhar is also a daily offering, for your dosa (potato crepe) or utthapam (vegetable pancake).  Appetizers tend to be deep fried, and well. 

Entrees are usually the "hits" from the menu, and always include something creamy and something like a dal (stewed lentils).  Most entrees do not feature exotic ingredients, with lotus root and lychee being about as extreme as it gets.  It is, of course, the sauces and seasoning that take this food somewhere else.

It may be my imagination, but there is a medicinal feel to the food at Chand, and I mean that in a good way. It's not surprising, given the care that is put into this restaurant.  Despite fatty and fried aplenty, it is very possible to concoct a healthy and aesthetic meal, with food always warm and fresh.


Saffron, East Hanover

Despite food that is way too oily (and not even with traditional oils), this place can still be pretty amazing.  The chef is a wizard with certain dishes, like anything spinach, and despite having lamb and chicken every day, the vegetable count is higher here than at Chand.  A trio of broccoli, beets, and string beans with garlic and pepper are usually out, next to a handful of vegetarian entrees.

Desserts can be really good, and Saffron's spice tea is the best I've ever had, though one of the army of waitstaff tells me the tea is still lame by Indian standards.   If Chand is (or can be) an elegant and healthful indulgence, Saffron is a bit sloppier and more decadent.  The atmosphere reflects this too, with multiple tiers, Indian relics, and a ceiling painted like the sky. 


Bombay Spice, Bridgewater

Sort of Saffron lite, a homey kitchen in contrast to the more rarified Saffron, whose strength is similarly not (necessarily) entrees.  Bombay excels in fried appetizers, desserts, and madras coffee.  Entrees may be quite good, but can be watery and bland.  Is that a punishable offence in India? 

To their credit, the food is always warm, as most often is the service.


Spice Grill, Parsippany and East Hanover

Same owner, different concepts.  The EH location is closer to fine dining, while Parsippany is more of a casual kitchen.  Both tend to be too oily, but very tasty.   Service is spotty, which is not a problem in Parsippany, but is somewhat off-putting in the full service restaurant.

I stopped going to Parsippany after EH opened, as have pretty much settled on Chand or Saffron when in  Morris County, so things may not be as I write at the Spice Grills.  Definately get a dosa at the EH location if they have it (weekends?), and watch out for the fruit -- it never looks washed.


Begum Palace, Madison

Nice place, if bland.  Sort of Indian for the very pale (Marge Simpson:  "the secret ingredient is salt." )  A good place to go if (for some reason) you want really mild Indian food.


Cloves, Budd Lake

I haven't been here in about a year, and stopped going because nonedible objects too regularly showed up in the dishes.  But despite this (and possibly a few other unsavory practices), the food was good, and  refreshingly different too, relying less on oil and seasoning than featured ingredients.   The atmosphere is dizzying, with spirals everywhere.


Caffe India, Morristown

Caffe milquetoast, with temperature problems to boot.  It's a shame, really, because I have a feeling the chef is an artist. 

  
Pooja, Warren

The only thing I remember is rice served on plastic wrap, which I suppose is two strikes against the place?


Baadshah, Parsippany

Another place I am sorry to have cut off, but why take chances with the implications of a pesticide notice, when Chand is right down the street?  But Baadshah had good food, Pakistani home-style, and pleasant staff.  I hope they have sorted out their troubles.


Cinnamon, Morris Plains

An extensive buffet, and tasty if a bit junky.  The food is somewhat like the Parsippany Spice Grill's.


The Clay Oven, Ledgewood 

The interior is kind of neat, Ganesh in rustic American comfort.  And metal bristles in my naan.


Udipi Cafe and Ahaar, Parsippany

RIP.  I saw the former go downhill, which is a shame.  Not only was it the only south Indian place for many miles, but the owners were most generous.

And Ahaar spoiled me even more. An astonishing array of dishes were put out for every buffet, and always one if not a handful were exceptional.  The food was spicy and hot, and savory without cream or excessive oil.  Eating here was a treat and an education, and only organic ingredients could up the Ahaar standard.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Dear Beatlehead


The Beatles suck.

So said a good friend of mine, but not because he hated the legendary foursome.  No, it was more of a mind jar, a forced shift in perspective.  And it carries weight because The Beatles do, now perhaps more than ever.  Witness "Love", the newly remastered catalog, and Beatles Rockband (does anyone else think this is is weird?)

The remastered catalog has made me reconsider a few things.  Not because it sounds horrible -- which I can't judge because I've heard it in stores -- but because some things have sunk in.  The last time I heard some of these tunes, I hadn't yet heard the earlier stuff described as "excercise."  Now I think I agree. 

But what re-strikes me the most is the Lennon vs. McCartney debate.  Usually the question is framed in terms of music and lyrics, but now I suspect McCartney is the better musician, but Lennon was the more interesting artist.

Yes, the A-word.  Bane of fags everywhere.  But all I'm saying is that McCartney's skills are more strictly musical -- writing, singing, bass playing, arranging -- while Lennon's recordings interact more interestingly with the rest of the world, including the listener.  Sir Paul sees a bigger musical bubble, but John saw the picture extramusically. 

The lyrics work similarly -- McCartney's are more musical, but almost always exist in a social space.  Lennon's have wider reach.

Think "I am the Walrus" vs. "Eleanor Rigby," or "Paperback Writer" vs. "Tomorrow Never Knows", or even respective contributions to the Abbey Road medly.  "Revolution 9" might call the difference to attention most extremely, if only because Sir Paul never released anything so removed from a well-trodden form.

Yours,

JHB