The Bridge Builder, by Will Allen Dromgoole

The Bridge Builder, by Will Allen Dromgoole

"An old man going a lone highway

Came at the evening, cold and gray,

To a chasm, vast, and deep and wide,

Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;

The sullen stream had no fear for him;

But he turned, when safe on the other side,

And built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,

"You are wasting strength with building here;

Your journey will end with the ending day;

You never again will pass this way;

You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide-

Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:

"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,

"There followeth after me today,

A youth, whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm, that has been naught to me,

To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.

He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;

Good friend, I am building this bridge for him."

Uuno Kailas - Prologi (w/ amateur English translation)

Uuno Kailas - Prologi

Aavistuksien linnut lentää sielussa levottomasti. Jaksatko purtesi perille soutaa elämän sieluun asti?

Sydämen tulinen rauta on tuotu elämän alasimelle. Kuinkahan kohtalo, sydänten seppä, tilinsä tekee ja kelle?

Uuno Kailas - Prologue (Eng. transl. T.D.L.)

An uneasy flock of a musing mind swoops along its soulscape. Say, will your vessel endure oaring the voyage beyond the spirit manifested in a physical shape?

Blazing iron of a heart, set on the anvil of life, now brought yonder. Fate - smith of our hearts - to whom do you deliver, and in what shape and form, I do wonder?

Father's Ashen Letter

Father's Ashen Letter

Died a stillborn past long ago
This spirit of self lingers on
Unable to let grasp of life go
For their tiny steps I fathom

Paper pieces of life around
Words written all scattered
Of love and of care abound
Songs for a world unbattered

These things unable to express
Mornings that do not dawn a sun
Man ought to emotions suppress
Living inside the barrel of a gun

Pushed aside by the long road
Drowned under the anxious yoke
Unshaven worn out face an ode
Ashes under childhood home oak

Words scribbled by a fireplace
Happier days, whispered the wind
Ink smokes as words set ablaze
For my dearest own kin and kind



(Happy birthday, whispers wind
My dear, dear own kin and kind)

Obscurity of Unlikely Facts

In this era of vast flow of information, it has become harder and harder for anybody to keep up with any topic of interest in a comprehensive way. This particularly applies to topics which provoke heated debates and appeals to mankind's intrinsic desire to reinforce their already existing opinions and views.

To this end, I've been playing around with a thought pattern lately which I've now fancily dubbed the law of Obscurity of Unlikely Facts. The purpose of this rather simple "check-list" of a cognitive bias can be applied rather universally, though in fields where it's hard to quantify and to measure a phenomenon in an exact manner it's harder. Simply put the idea behind the whole thing is the saying "Even a Blind Chicken Finds a Kernel of Corn Now and Then". This saying doesn't seem very popular in English, but it's used time to time in Finnish.

The basic idea is, that if we can do the (false) dichomization on whatever topic to be able to say whether a certain fact is TRUE or FALSE, let's say on a political debate, usually people have a set of e.g. 5 main commandments they follow. Suppose a person with an agenda posting the following list (which might be in a narrative format but can be reduced to a list of main hypotheses):

The great Tomato debate thread example:

Arguments by tomato-specialist Foo Bar:
1) Natural tomatoes are always yellow
2) Tomato farmers have gone too far in bringing out unnatural red tomatoes
3) Farmers are backed up by an international tomato X company wanting us to eat addictive (red) tomatoes
4) All tomato farmers are evil
5) Tomato farmers want to make a profit

A pro-red tomato person counters this post in a relevant forum, and pushes in for a counter-attack. He makes a list of the hypotheses and starts collecting counter-material. He then posts the following post (shortened from what you would encounter in real-life):

Counter-post by red-tomatoist Qwerty Asdfg:
"Mr. Bar recently posted a seriously misguided list of curious facts that I feel need to be corrected. He claims that all natural tomatoes are always yellow, but we have discovered many varieties of tomatoes in the wild that are by nature red, as recently published in the International Journal of Tomatoes by Prof. Tomatogic et al. Furthermore, as we encounter these red tomatoes in the wild, it is hilarious to even propose that farmers would be the ones propagating the advance of red tomatoes over yellow ones - majority of tomato subtypes are red, as shown by Prof. Tomatogic. There is zero evidence that e.g. Prof Tomatogic would have any affiliations to company X, and looking at their catalogy at my nearby tomato store I discovered that they do offer a large variety different colours of tomatoes, including yellow ones. Bringing in X in relation to tomato farmers is just ridiculous. This all just shows how misguided Mr. Bar is in his original post; to claim that tomato farmers are evil is just a cherry on the top, and tomato farmers do not want to make a profit - they just aim to produce the healthiest of products and take great pride in their work!"

Now, for starters, both posts by Bar and Asdfg would rub me the wrong way. Both are very extreme and show no signs of lenience towards the opposing view, which in my opinion is the key to detecting a triggered argument which should be taken with a truck-load of salt. But the point of the law of Obscurity of Unlikely Facts is to systematically evaluate Asdfg's counter-arguments, disregarding how ridiculous the original claims may have been.

While Asdfg appeals to reason and even science in his shooting-down of mr. Bar's post, I find above sort of counter-posts questionable. First of all, it addresses every single point from mr. Bar directly in a list-like manner, even if it's narrative. When I see this sort of counter-post, red lights start flashing. To me, it only indicates that Asdfg has first decided that mr. Bar's arguments are to be proven wrong, and then Asdfg has collected the evidence and/or rhetoric arguments to address every single one of them. A statistical basis for the law could probably be found in False Discovery Rate or the lack of corrections for multiple testing, but that's beyond this post.

Now the key point is that when I see somebody go through their opposer's supposed arguments in this non-constructive, list-like systematic way, it makes me question Asdfg's motives - he or she has probably not even tried to understand the original arguments and/or taken the time to consider whether they can be interpreted in a manner that is true.

To summarize the law of Obscurity of Unlikely Facts:
The longer the list of arguments by person A, the more likely that at least one or more of these arguments are true to at least a reasonable extent. In reverse, the longer the list the A's opposer B shoots down systematically, the more likely the person B is biased to just counter A without a proper, through-out and fair inspection. There are multiple factors that affect this (e.g. ad hominem yes/no) or lenience in B's comments, but a systematic list vs. list discussion is very likely to include a degrading amount of cognitive bias and probably ought to be ignored altogether.

If you engage in multiple discussions of sensitive topics, I have found the above simple rule useful in filtering out discussions where the discussion is just not worth my time. Usually they degrade into a kindergarten-level "yes! no! yes! no!" poking spiced with ad hominem, so it's better to move on to a better forum/thread if one really wishes to find out information on the various views to the topic. But above rule can also be used to detect discussions that are a great source of humorous content (Dunning-Kruger effect usually increases in this case as a function of time), in which case one should go grab some popcorn, just sit back, relax and see it unfold in its glorious marvel.

The Pharaoh's Bentley

The Pharaoh's Bentley

So in 2013, one of the richest men in Brazil by the name of Mr. Scarpa (much easier to refer to him this way), announced that he would be burying in a "future" grave of his a million dollar Bentley luxury car. He had the inspiration from the ancient Egypt's pharaohs, who would be buried in their huge graves - pyramids - with their vast wealth, gifts, and utilities to be ready for them in the afterlife. So Mr. Scarpa had an inspiration, and a million dollar Bentley is not much for some.

This was naturally met with extreme prejudice and an outrage from the general public - how can somebody be so irresponsible? Waste some much money on nothing? Give it to the poor! Totally unattached to reality! Trying to evade taxes?! Etc. Mr. Scarpa appeared on multiple talk shows and similar interviews to explain his motivations and how he admired the ancient Egyptians for this grandeur, and that he had every right to do this move - and nobody can deny that from him, definitely. The media followed his steps closely as he progressed to build this structure for lowering his beloved 1,000,000$ Bentley to a final resting place, where he'd presumably eventually join it.

When it the time came for the burying of the Mr. Scarpa's Bentley, he was ready and set to go to lower the million dollar beauty to a deep pit in the ground, when he revealed the genius in his stunt. He was never going to lower the Bentley to a deep pit - instead the scolded millionaire turned to the public, turning their outrage against themselves; numerous people are buried with wealth much greater than a mundane Bentley - their organs. The whole plan of Mr. Scarpa's stunt was to promote being an organ donor, and he had himself been close to death a time ago, realizing the mortality and spending two months in coma. Possibly receiving new piece of the man's cogwheels (I'm not sure of this though but still), he had a great point to make.

The Pharaoh's Bentley is a great story and I was thinking of it tonight during insomnia, though it was much more distressing thoughts that originally kept me up. But the Pharaoh's Bentley made me think of why am I not yet an organ donor (I do donate 0- blood rather regularly, though I've been denied donor a few times lately due to anemia). We feel sacred of our bodies - what if I'm still alive when I'm being buried? In coma, just missed the pulse for a few beats and had a wrong diagnosis? In some countries, people were buried  with bells attached above their graves and a six feet rope reaching all the way to the coffin in case they were alive after all. The feeling of being accidentally killed, even if chances are extremely low, is extremely distressing.

Furthermore, we do feel that our body is a 'whole'. If I'm missing my kidneys, liver, eye(s), heart, ... it's something that was mine, was part of me on my journey, and what partly defined me - how can it be just 'installed' on somebody else? I guess this comes down to what extent we can our selves to our body just beyond the nervous system, which starting from reflexes has voluntary and involuntary functions that make us who we are. I do feel strange thinking that for example my kidney might go to somebody else. But when I think that the somebody might be a kid with a kidney disorder, it starts becoming more clear why it'd be a waste to put it down with me and let it rot. After all, I don't think anybody will deny the fact that eventually we'll be just a scrap of dust, hair and bone - religious beliefs and awkward alternatives like embalming aside. The living issue will inevitably be gone, while it could've served somebody else in very drastic ways. The Pharaoh's Bentley is a great initiative I think, I just need to overcome my own prejudices. I don't know why I remembered it today, but it's definitely worth sharing.

From dust to dust, yet it's not that simple with modern medicine.

Dance of Hannah

[A Modernization of / Tribute to Edwin Arlington Robinson's 'Richard Cory' (1897)]

Dance of Hannah

Hannah has an idealist's heart and she loves dancing
Thoughtful of how the wounded world is worth healing
Her father an honest worker albeit strict man at times
Her mother caring but worrying over her wildish swings
Tomorrow she'd start at a new job to stand on her own
Tender smile as her family left driving to town that dawn

A brief hand-written letter left on the kitchen table
Closed the porch door companied by a sturdy cable
A woodswoman she knew the knots and setting a rope
Volunteers combing the nearby woods scarce of hope
Hannah's face by the clearing an eerie bloating blue
By the time police called 'the worst had come true.'

-TDL '16

Island

Island

When I was a child, I locked up in my cocoon

When I was an adolescent, I had no place to be

When I was a young adult, I feared losing my self

When I grew to be an adult, I became a cogwheel

I stepped deep into the river of discovery

I cast my hand into the stream of science

I tipped my toe by the ocean of mankind

I devoured a forefinger sip and then vomited

Albeit I've never found an another soul here-in

Every night some hidden stranger within me 

Sets ablaze the lamp in the lighthouse up-hill

-TDL, Dec '16

Guinney et al. The Lancet Oncology: Prediction of overall survival for patients with metastatic castration-resistant prostate cancer: development of a prognostic model through a crowdsourced challenge with open clinical trial data

Guinney et al. 

The Lancet Oncology: Prediction of overall survival for patients with metastatic castration-resistant prostate cancer: development of a prognostic model through a crowdsourced challenge with open clinical trial data 

I am a shared first author, and this is the result of DREAM 9.5 mCRPC challenge. Hoping to have this as the crown jewel of my dissertation.

http://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS1470-2045(16)30560-5/fulltext

The Mensa-Dilemma

The Mensa-Dilemma

So I happened to bump into a friend's forum post with claimed high IQ from a Mensa test today and it reminded me of what I've dubbed 'the Mensa-Dilemma', first time like a year ago. I've been sometimes intrigued of taking a Mensa test, and being what I am, I've evaluated that I'd pass the test. By how much, that I wouldn't know. I could be delusional and might very well fail it as well, so that option has to be open. If I am delusional I'd estimate that I'd still be approximately at the borderline, by mirroring my academic/career/skill achievements in comparison to the common populace (if I remember right Mensa was supposed to be top 5%, 2.5% or 1%, forgot the exact quantile). IQs seem to be kind-of pitch in freebies in certain forums, with nothing to back it up with (i.e. proof), and even if there was, it is used in irrelevant contexts (a high IQ person may very well be incapable of functioning in a specific narrow field).

But what leads to the dilemma is that I loathe the term IQ. Reducing human intelligence (or artificial intelligence or what-ever sentient being in question) to a single numeric value is fundamentally absurd. I've always admired people like ancient Greek philosopher-mathematicians or people like Da Vinci, who were geniuses on multiple fields: inventor, painter, mathematician. Quite the genius, nobody can deny that. However, when projected to a single dimensional numeric value, which bases emphasis on logical thinking, they might've ended up being "mediocre geniuses". So a 170er could go to a 150er and boast in the smaller quantile digits of how they're in the 170er-club. Human mind is nearly incapable of compherehending extremely small or high numbers or probabilities, as well as distribution quantiles, thus in practice this 150er probably is just as smart as the 170er.

The mixture of loathing IQ and the intiguing curiousity of a Mensa-test result form the basis of what I called the Mensa-Dilemma, here as a 2x2 table:

.........Did I take a Mensa test?
................................._____Yes_(A)__________No_(B)_____
Did I pass?..............Yes_(1).|......A1......|.......B1.......|
.........................No__(2).|......A2......|.......B2.......|
.................................---------------------------------

The problem rises when I consider all the 4 possibilities, as I can only lose in this game:

- A1: I took a test and I passed test. I feel guilty for trying to prove myself, while already in the beginning I had already estimated that I'd quite easily pass the test. The margin by which I'd pass might affect my opinion. But most likely I'd just cancel my membership right away after feeding my curiousity, but in order to not go for a holier than thou -attitude, I'd probably only tell my wife about the whole thing. I'd regret taking the test because I was right right in the start, and I "lowered" myself in my own standards due low self-esteem or some strange need to prove myself. But it's only a test. People who throw around Mensa-stuff are generally doing it randomly and it only makes the conversations awkward or malicious.

- A2: So I took a test and I failed. This would of course be a big bump on my self esteem. So am I just a random stranger in the street? Why am I even considering philosophical, artistical, or natural scientific achievements, when I have been shown by a metric to be possibly only a mediocre citizen? That'd be hard to swallow. I might go into researching IQ tests more in detail and come up with a false explanation as to why this whole thing's a fiasco, but I don't think I'd fall that low.

- B1: So I never took the test, but if I did, I would pass. I will never find out that I would've passed the test (or by how much), and every time Mensa pops up, I will probably presume I would belong to B1-category - but I got nothing to back it up with. "Sure I could take a Mensa test and top it easily" sounds as vain as it can be.

- B2: So I never took the test, but if I did, I wouldn't even pass. I live in happy ignorance of my own mediocrity, but still I presumably consider myself to be á priori B1-class. It will probably affect my conclusions, behaviour, human interactions, et cetra. But there is always the scare in the back of my head, that what if I'm a B2'er? I must know, I couldn't be a B1'er... could I? Without the test, I would find myself somewhat restless.


So whatever I got, A1, A2, B1, or B2, I'd be discontent. I'd always find a way to be displeased of the outcome anyhow (and let's neglect the aspect of how high the result was, just the Mensa-eligible threshold). So that causes me a dilemma. There is no way I can 'win'.

In some applications, 'the only way to win is to not play at all'. I was thinking that'd probably be the solution in this problem. I'm not an expert in game theory, but however unfortunately here 'not playing' would fall into a choice for the category B, leading again to a B1 or B2, thus a loss.

In reality, amusingly, the only way for me to win is to add a category C, which stands for 'forgot the whole damn thing'. It has now happened to me twice. Approximately year ago I remembered Mensa and checked their local test times - and noticed that the coming Saturday had a single test coming up in my town. However, the week after I remember that particular test, and that I forgot to go to it - well, I won! My dilemma is still unsolved, so I don't have to pick anywhere in A1 - B2! Yay, C-category is the way to go. However now that I was reminded of this, I did check the test schedules again - and luckily there were no upcoming tests within a reasonable interval in our city. Victory, C-category again!

.........Did I take a Mensa test? ................................._____Yes_(A)__________No_(B)_____I forgot the thing (C)_ Did I pass?..............Yes_(1).|......A1......|.......B1.......|..........C1..........| .........................No__(2).|......A2......|.......B2.......|..........C2..........| .................................--------------------------------------------------------

This has so far guaranteed that I can sleep my nights in peace, to exaggerate:

- C1: Too bad, I would've been a Mensa member, but I forgot the whole thing and I'll continue my life like before. I don't think I'd lose anything.

- C2: Whew, I never got to know I wouldn't be eligible. Ignorance is bliss!

It's only a matter of time though when I consciously can't avoid C-category any more. I both wait and fear that day (again exaggeration, it's not really that big of a deal). For the time being I haven't ever taken a Mensa test. Here I completely omitted the factor of how much one would pass the test by (i.e. the exact value of IQ, not just the threshold). I hope I won't have to think about that any day soon.

I've heard rumors that people that attend to Mensa meetings are just like anybody. They play board games, talk about mundane things or sometimes more philosophical, but nothing out of the scope of e.g. a club for students of topic X in University. Maybe I'm shooting a fly with a cannon just because I want to shoot a cannon. Still, 'The Mensa-Dilemma' sounds pretty good, eh?

For Vilja

I recited this poem at my second daughter's, Vilja's (2mo), baby dedication on last Sunday.

For Vilja

So my lips speak in a foreign tongue out of courtesy
With the intention inscribed in a fatherly tendency
The words are for all those in presence of your dedication
But the message is a seed for nurturing a human foundation

My heart an unfinished puzzle with now your piece found
Gladly I stand here again at pillars of mankind profound
While pieces are yet to come and some will still be lost
Knowing with these blessings I am luckier than the most

In sadness we will count and collect your tears
When the dark days come we'll wipe away the fears
Together with your mother whose signet you carry
Please be young for long as many forget to tarry

In happiness and success participating in the joy
Your life renews also mine and that journey I enjoy
In challenges there to help you stand on your feet
And should we depart let our paths once again meet

I will that you be siblings of hand-in-hand union
Have each support the other as a beloved companion
Let neither tower be covered by the shadow of another
Thicker the blood bond tightly knit you two together

Let your choices be guided by a more capable hand
Your life composing a chant of a glorifying stand
And where my power and wisdom end on this earth
The destiny you forge yet be enchanted by mirth

With this I pour my strength unto you to guide thee
A father equipping his daughters for an unknown sea
As we do not know what tomorrow brings in its wake
Today we gladly company you in this dear daybreak

So I pray - - be happy and care-free
My silvery - - beautiful, willow tree

(TDL, August 2016)

A Coma-inducing Injection of Life

A Coma-inducing Injection of Life

"Discount ticket for one", I recall offering the fee  

At a film threater, wide screen, easily seats for dozens 

but the cashier winked and said "this one's for free"

Companied by an audience in shackles, restraints, frozen

Maybe a small box office hit, director's shooting star

In the the opening night I shivered, felt so real back then

Genre of drama, maybe mystery, rumored a cheap CGI spar

This movie measured, weighted, and found an ok 6.5 out of 10

Some applaud out of the kind habit and vanish to the mist

Once it's over, familiar faces shake hands yet flee to stroll 

The memories turned to ash and I dwelled in-within my cyst

I leave last as I turn off the lights and halt the film roll

A lifetime later I wander searching for a decent copy 

So I discover myself as a VCR at some flimsy flea market

But at least the cover art's decent, can't pass it by

Remember no refunds, just mind the case is like a casket

My mind is as bland as the plastic memoir, made in China

The tape melts and slithers between my fingers as dust

The anxiety sets in, and I start to produce more saliva

I grab, gather and devour it to satisfy my curious lust

The dirt is bitter and sweet, like my life turned migraine 

Desperately I decide to snort and shoot it deeper within

The flesh howls in pain, but I inject the signal yet again

My veins cry for mercy, yet seeking for meaning there-in

Then I snap; I was sitting in the theater alone, alone all the years

I imagined all the people there, I imagined the whole bloody flick

There never was a theater, I was just bound in a mind behind my eyes

Did I ever even exist? Is this a sick joke, I mean, what the fuck?

A brain in a jar

Life behind bars

A Story of 30 Years, Seconds, and Minutes

A Story of 30 Years, Seconds, and Minutes

Takes roughly 30 years to grow a man well raised
Toughen the skin, a machine with feelings maimed

Depleted wanderlust justify him to say "seen it all"
Bright eyes tainted, stapled to some backstage wall

Hither arrive segments that loom on the leering path
Hazy thoughts set the stage, cliché nihilistic wrath

Toiling to fill the mind with some meaningful belief
Against dark clothed as light, which hints of relief



Life takes 30 seconds to kill such a plain man
Tie the knot, to fear much the inevitable pain

Already set the stool - the null of void lurking
Staring back at you, whispering the doubt within

Mood like some grinning jester of grim mockery
The guts, hah, got enough for the joust bloody?

Still cannot deny matters worth such mortal bother
Please sleep now then think it all over altogether



Sheets and blankets in bed end this tale, and sun of a waking morning
Little red riding hood traveled safely this haunted half-hour pathing
Though anxiety dwells not in that the wolf hunts for prey every night 
For it is deadly to cross paths even once, which eventually one might

(TDL; June 2016)

Existential Nihilism - Eksistentiaalinen Nihilismi

Existential Nihilism

Only nothingness dwells here.

--

Eksistentiaalinen Nihilismi

Täällä asuu vain tyhjyys.



(TDL; June 2016)

Tummia Sanoja - Dark Words

Tummia Sanoja

Tuoreita kirjoituksia ja muutamia vanhempia tekeleitä
tummina taittuneet näytön ääreen yön pimeinä tunteina.

En suosittele näitä sanoja juuri kenellekään.
Ne ovat rupisen paiseen valuva visva,
jotta alla oleva haava saisi vihdoin hengittää ja parantua.
Voi olla valoakin tunnelin päässä.

-- 

Dark Words

Recent excavations in my creative texts with a hint of my antiques
words scribbled in the darkest hours embraced by the pale light of a monitor.

I wouldn't recommend these words for anybody.
For they're the punctured pus of a bubonic flesh,
so that the corpus underneath may finally breathe and heal.
There may be light at the end of the tunnel.

Omakuva / Self portrait 2005

Vastuu on lukijalla. / Read at your own risk.

Turussa 13. kesäkuuta 2016,
In Turku 13th of June, 2016,

Teemu Daniel Laajala