Ramanujan Redux

With the NBA Playoffs in full gear, roundball fans are always reminded in commercials of the greatness that once graced the NBA every season. Michael Jordan graced the league for fourteen spectacular seasons of dunks, fallaway jumpers, game winning shots, and championships. He exemplified the winning attitude that all human beings hope to adopt.

Yet one reason he was so brilliant was how easy he made it look. We glossed over the physical punishment that a 6′6″ guard took driving to the hole in a tall man’s world and focused on the breakaway slam reels. For over a decade the NBA has suffered from this me-first type of play, with everyone subconsciously believing that by taking the toughest shots possible, they could be like Mike. And of course, they can’t and couldn’t. People forget all the hard work it took for MJ to be MJ.

Arguably there have been more talented individuals out there, before and since. But no one else put the work in as much on the court as he did, for individual and team. And it shows with the six rings.

But it was never just about making the impossible easy. Let’s listen to the words of the man, shall we? (Click on the link to watch the video).

1. It’s Not About the Shoes

Just like in Fight Club, your possessions do not define you. They are rewards for hard work and accomplishment, not a shallow display of your own self-worth. Unmerited rewards lead to emptiness inside. Your actions are what is substantive. Their impact will last far longer than your shoes.

2. Not Meant to Fly

There are those among us who say there are limits to what they can accomplish. These people are a nuisance. Get rid of them, extirpate these undesirable qualities within yourself, and start learning to break limits before the burden of age catches up with you.

3. Challenge

Sweat hard when you’re battling. Make sure you’re dead tired when you walk out of your workplace. Exhaustion shows how far you’ve pushed yourself in pursuit of your passions. Make sure you rest only when your efforts hinder rather than help.

4. Michael vs. Mia

Once you become one of the best, challenge yourself against the best, or those who share your goals and desires. Their attitude towards work and success is infectious. Let it become the only disease that you never want to heal.

5. Nothing but Net

Challenge yourself in every facet of life, even if it means absolutely nothing in the long-run. It makes life more exciting, more thrilling, more exhilarating. Oh, and put a Big Mac on the line for the winner. (more…)

I ate a bag of tortilla chips today. A whole family bag of tortilla chips. This was a very bad idea. The product was inevitable–awesome nausea the rest of the night.

Logical fallacies dominated my reasoning in these cases.

–”If no one else eats these, it’ll just be a waste!” Sunk cost fallacy in full action there.

–”Because I’m going on a high protein/low carb diet. I should eat these chips now so I can go on the diet sooner.” I think that’s an affirmative conclusion from a negative premise. More likely it’s just me being a moron.

Then I go and order salty soup with noodles and bread today for lunch. I never get tired of learning the hard way.

Did you know that if you’re deaf and dumb, you too can reach glory at the highest sporting levels? This can certainly happen in a country like India, where big muscles will never predominate. You’ll never see someone use steroids in this sport, unless they want to pound the ball into the ground.

Iqbal is pretty much your standard cliche sports hero movie, except this time there’s a disability involved. Also touched upon are the sociological ramifications of cricket and its complete paralyzing of the Indian economy (I’d assume Europe/South America is similar with its soccer leagues), but I know little about these things. I’ d probably just blather on about the diversity of sport in America keeping us ahead of the pack instead of orally fixated on one team, all year.

I have a more interesting question: Why do these type of films appeal to us?

Certainly, being a sports hero has appealed to most of us at an early age. I know it has to me. I always wanted to be Scottie Pippen or Penny Hardaway, using suffocating defense on one end and being the unassuming sidekick to a bigger star (I knew I’d never have the talent to be anything more than unassuming), but genetics constrained me to a pitifully average 5′5″ figure by the age of 20, and I just couldn’t keep up with the faster stars. So I’d have to confine myself to the pickup courts and find passions in another.

So while I think Iqbal is a celebration of one star finding his dreams, we should also realize that our dreams are right in front of us. Ask yourself: What is it that you want to do? What is it that you enjoy doing more than anything else? Would you be willing to do anything to realize those dreams like Iqbal? Or will you be a spectator and let the Iqbals around you fulfill what’s in front of them?

Movies like this make me realize how far I must go. I have a lot to do.

Why do you enjoy about the inspirational sports film? (Think Hoosiers, The Mighty Ducks, etc.)

One other note: There is an interesting use of strategy in this movie I noticed after reading 33 Strategies of War–lull the enemy into a false sense of security, let him think that he has the advantage over you, and then pounce. It’s at the climax of the film, and it’s pretty badass. Highly enjoyable film.

Before Riley didn’t throw the ball away: Diarrhea, constipation, viral infection.
After Riley got knocked down: Viral infection
After Longshore’s pick-six: Exercise intolerance
After the beatdown in the desert: Relapse of viral infection
After a boring, listless victory Wazzu: Hit in the eye by a toy football, and plenty of chills. After a miserable four hours listening to “Fight On”: Cough, wet clothes, breaking down in tears in the shower.
After getting pushed around by the Huskies: Beginning of the flu.
After losing the Axe: Morning migraines.

I’m sure this is all coincidental.

Generally, when I search for book quotes, I get deeply interested. Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird is one such tale that hits me deep.

“His parents egged him on, providing him with the best tutors their money could buy. When he took top honors, they rewarded their son by buying him anything he wanted.  His childhood was one of extreme material luxury, but when he entered the most sensitive and vulnerable phase of life, he had no time for girlfriends, no chance to go wild with other boys. He had to pour all his energies into maintaining his position as number one.”

Considering the fate of this character, I think I need to stop being like that. At least all the time.

“We study health, and we deliberate upon our meats and drink and air and exercises, and we hew and we polish every stone that goes to that building; and so our health is a long and regular work. But in a minute a cannon batters all, overthrows all, demolishes all; a sickness unprevented for all our diligence, unsuspected for all our curiosity, nay, undeserved, if we consider only disorder, summons us, seizes us, possesses us, destroys us in an instant.”

I don’t know the man who wrote this quote, but he does have a hidden point. It’s good to eat healthy as you grow older, it’s good to get a checkup every few months, check up on your troublespots and what not. But to obsess about your health is like to obsess about any desire or want–unhealthy. Don’t lose yourself in the process.

Being sick for a few months (from stomach ailments to viral infections to the flu) sucks, especially when you strive for productivity and action. But sometimes it’s good to take a break, to rest, to repair, to reorient. Life might be short, but you can still accomplish plenty in a lifetime if you take time to relax. The world will not stop if you take a week off to ease your troubles. There are plenty of ways to make up for lost time. But sickness must be stamped out before you can move on with the tasks at hand.

I have been straggling through the month trying to figure out new ways to make my stomach miserable. At first I assumed it was a viral infection and it would run its course, until symptoms persisted for a few weeks. I then looked at the food I’d been eating, and lo and behold, there were trouble spots all around:

I realized all that Orbit gum I chew every day had sorbitol in it. Farewell Orbit, may I never have to chew your sweet stomach-churning flavors ever again.

I saw that those whole wheat pita bread on pinto beans, tomatoes, and watery canned tuna salads were destined to lead to a gastrointestinal acidic recipe for bloating, burping, and all the perks of flatulent Fridays.

I was cooking bulks of lentils that were waaay over what I needed on a daily basis.  Beans beans, too many beans. Some are good, too many are fartsy.

Oh, and why was I up all night? Some mild stomach pain and constipation forced me to drink some Chinese green tea earlier this evening. Naturally, this only led to something worse: caffeine intoxication. Apparently two cups of green tea were enough to do the trick, although at maximum dosage that still isn’t close to enough to start getting chills all over, along with. There must be another culprit at work.

The only recent change in diet? Belizza Acai sorbet, due to those mysterious antioxidants that supposedly reverse the aging process or whatever. I know they often add guarana (a caffeinated product) to the acai palmberry (the main berry that does all sorts of wonders), but it isn’t listed in the ingredients. But that high energy label, no fat, no dairy makes me wonder what exactly is in it…

In any case, it’s gone until I figure out how much caffeine is in that thing. Either that or I have a huge intolerance for caffeine, which might signal the end of green tea consumption. Not a huge loss; I preferred gelato anyway, and fennel/peppermint/chamomille tea definitely can replace the herbs of the Far East.

I’m rambling right now. It’s apparently one symptom of caffeine intoxication. Life is great. Hopefully I’ll fall asleep soon, the half-life of caffeine since consumption just passed through.

Foods to avoid: Orbit gum, Belizza sorbet.
Keep an eye on: Green tea consumption. Probably moving to fennel tea.

No. And yes.

I don’t really love anything about Berkeley. I mean, the weather’s nice, but it gets a little chilly–do you enjoy the occasional 50 degree night in July? The students find their own groups pretty quickly, so making new friends is largely dependent on the friends you make your freshman year. The food’s decent and diverse (it’s nice to have five Indian restaurants within a few blocks), but come on, is La Burrita all you can do for Mexican?

And as for professors, I’ve been underwhelmed. This might have something to do with choosing a slightly antiquated major (I love math, but I seldom meet a math major I want to coerce with) where it’s none too easy to find accessible professors and interesting research (they’re there, but you have to look hard, and after awhile you kind of give up when you realize you have no idea what they’re talking about).

It’s not a big deal for me; I’ve accepted those things and have to tried to expand my reach. But when you do that, something interesting begins to happen–you panic. You don’t know what’s coming next. You’re walking out into the dark. These are uncharted waters, and you have to be prepared to sink or swim for your life.

But slowly you find something else you like doing. And then something else. And maybe something you don’t like, and you eliminate it quickly. And you keep on trying new and new things, until you reach the place you want to be the legend you’re trying to pursue. You probably don’t get there now, or when you graduate, or even years after your house parties. But you know if you keep on pursuing it, you’ll find it.

So while I don’t really love this place, I appreciate what it’s done to me. It’s re-educated me on what’s important and what really matters, about what it means to actually gain an education. That it’s more than just the grades. That it takes a lifetime to figure out who you are and what you want. You’ll be treated the way you treat others; If you are too shy to seek out help, you’ll be ignored in return; if you can’t respect yourself, who else will; if you start bringing your full effort every day, slowly you will reap the rewards of your work, etc. etc. You learn all these lessons and more once you distance yourself from the filler and take control of your life.

In short, Berkeley has prepared me for reality. So after my time at Cal is done here, I’m ready for what lies beyond. That’s what I love.

I might have had a better time at Caltech or Stanford, getting pampered and bestowed the gifts of the privates. But I’d still be walking in the dark.

Do you love your college? Why or why not?

Viral infections are the worst. At least with diarrhea you know what you’re getting, and with constipation you know you’re eventually getting it out. With a virus you just have to hope that your immune system holds the fort and eventually beats the invaders into submission.

Now, thanks to some undertreated lettuce or soggy tomatoes or whatever the hell was in that salad, I’m currently in perpetual shitty mode, waiting for release. On the bright side, I remembered about this site. Maybe I’ll start writing to it again.

Well, 21 came and passed. Expecting some wild stories?

Naturally, I’m expecting big things to happen. I had been changing a lot for the better over the past few weeks and months, so the hammer has to drop. It has to. I haven’t been doing all these changes just to get myself angry.

So I go out to a local party with friends last night, thinking that perhaps tonight might be my night. I’ve been feeling stronger, better, more confident than I ever was in the previous years of adolescence. All of this has to pay off dividends at some point, doesn’t it? Why not at the turning point from into adulthood?

So I’m casually surveying the scene, looking for someone who would be willing to share this glorious occasion…and catch the eye of one particular girl. Her face seems familiar (perhaps we’ve met before?) as she gives me the look. You know, that look. The one that says “I want you and I will wait until the end to get what I want.” The first time I’ve ever gotten that look. Jackpot.

I did all the things I dreamt would happen on my first date. My social awkwardness didn’t even seem to matter at the beginning (although it was clear I had no idea what I was doing). We eventually hitched off the party late and went outside into the dark. We walked the hills of the city, sharing flirtatious glances late at night. We stare at the landscape and admire its beauty. I’m practically on a high, hitting all the right notes, acting totally comfortable in my own skin. We lose complete track of time, just enjoying the moments together, alone in the emptiness of the world, save the few random frat fights we seem to run into every few hours, and the fact that the scenery seemed to change from San Francisco to Vienna to Tokyo. Alcohol seems to be my enabler.

So after a long night to remember, we head back to her apartment, open the door, she smiles at me seductively, we walk in, and…

…and then I wake up.

People wonder why I never get any chicks. I guess I’m just too much of a dreamer.