Should groceries/cooking be shared or individual?

I have come to believe that individual groceries/cooking is far better than shared. It leads to fairness, proper alignment of incentives, low wastage and an overall efficient system. By "fairness" I mean that individual cost, both in terms of money and effort, is proportional to the benefit.

This is analogous to socialism vs. capitalism (I am not sure about the terms; please correct me if I am wrong). Socialism, immho, can easily achieve fairness only when the needs, ambitions, abilities and willingness of everyone in the system are exactly equal. When they are not, socialism must struggle to attain what capitalism can accomplish naturally. I guess there is a mathematical way of proving this and that this is taught in economics 101, but sadly I have no formal education in economics -- something I sorely miss these days.

However, people are invariably offended by the idea of individual groceries, when the intention is not to do that. Even to people outside the system, collectivism (?) appears more harmonious and individual groceries sound discordant.


What do you think?

Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last long aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

~ Robert Frost

Found this one here, and shamelessly reposting. This one is to an awesome summer that is now dying.

Concerning light and shadow

I tend to label some of my acquaintances as Sunrays and some others as Dementors. In principle, I have always been opposed to labeling. However, I have realized that, in practice, I feel no qualms doing it myself. What I am really opposed to is others labeling me and mine. T will say "at least he is honest about it", while B will just consider it as another proof of how I am "full of hubris, as ever".

Anyways, back to Sunrays and Dementors. Sunrays are people who make others happy. In contrast, Dementors, as we all know, suck away happiness. There is a third category: the Balrog, who are both light and darkness at the same time, but that is matter for another post.

Of course, the same person might be a Sunray for one and a Dementor for another. I certainly am a Dementor for most of my acquaintances, when all the time the intention is precisely the opposite. But "intentions don't matter, only actions do."

But this post is not about Dementors; it's about Sunrays, one Sunray in fact.

So it was an overcast and chilly morning in Cambridge and I had just received a mail from one of the top Dementors of all time. Much cold and much depressed, I feel a coffee could fix things. So I go to the kitchen, on the way been greeted by the usual surprise on G's face ("Why is this guy still around? I thought his internship had ended way ago.") and complete non-recognition-of-existence from A. I try to open a new milk can and its opening-handle-thingy breaks. "These bleeping cans!"

And she sweeps in wearing that mild perfume of hers and her sudden, true smile. (Surprisingly, all of my Sunrays are female, with the brightest one in London.) She takes a knife and neatly opens the can and says "yeah this happens" and we go on and share a joke about Madame Tussuad's. It's a full half hour before I remember that sad email and somehow it does not matter any longer.


Now I want a Sunray of my own, and avoiding the mist is the least of the reasons.

Mine own personal stalker.

upen's LJ stalker is smriti!

smriti is stalking you because they think you are rich and they want your blingbling. They are also eating your food when you aren't looking!

LiveJournal Username:

LJ Stalker Finder
From Go-Quiz.com

Now really, Etji! What is this I am hearing?! I always wonder how I get through my burrito so quickly. Hehe :D

Hehe

This is just so ridiculously silly and geeky that I could not resist:


And I want to do this:

India and Security Reforms

Warning:
This is a mid-night rant about things back home. I might find some answers myself during the imminent 3am enlightenment session.

Was reading up the Kargil Review Committee Report.
"An objective assessment of the last 52 years will show that the country is lucky to have scraped through various nations security threats without too much damage, except in 1962. The country can no longer afford such ad hoc functioning."

Why are Indians so ... naive. No, not naive generally, but kind of absent-minded with respect to realities.

Keeda

Spent some time trying to figure out the correct English translation for the bambaiyya term 'Keeda'. Couldn't find one. So an attempt to capture the deep meaning of that abstract and subtle idea.

Keeda is, IMMHO, the uncontrollable urge to mischief. The keeda, used also to refer to the perpetrator himself, is not generally held responsible for what is really beyond his power to control.
"Usne aisa kyun kiya?" "Chod yaar, bahot keeda hai usme."

Here's my favorite keedagiri example. People in Austin are welcome to try it out. For people outside Austin, it would be definitely worth a trip.

Go quietly near Smriti's cube. Crouch until you reach the cube's partition. Jump up and say Boo!

A little jump. Widened eyes. A sudden tightening of her grip on the mouse. If you are lucky, you also hear an escaped "Auao!".

But then, the face quickly becomes purple, veins throbbing on her forehead. Lips pressed into that dreadful straight line. "DON'T (1 second pause) DO (1 second pause) THAT".

She stares at her screen for a few seconds, as if she is really doing some work, while she breathes deeply a few times. And then she is her jovial self again. She even lets you follow her around as she brews her tea, hides from D, perpetrates random acts of violence, etc.

But a warning: First sneak around and check that she is at her desk. That way,
(1) you don't end up saying Boo! to her chair and being considered crazy by her cubemates, as I am, and,
(2) you are prepared for the electric blue/fluorescent green/brilliant yellow lipstick or whatever she is wearing and not get scared to death, as I nearly was.


I hope Itiji forgives me for this, because I am already planning something much worse.

The idea still remains the same.

Too much. Why did you post that C & H link, S? Malicious, I call that.

You know, I am really not that unhappy. But just like someone "I tend to talk when I'm happy, and write when I'm not". And again, "Yes, I'm reduced to quoting others now".

So something happy:

Both sides, now

Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons ev’rywhere
I’ve looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on ev’ryone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s cloud illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all

Moons and junes and ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev’ry fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

But now it’s just another show
You leave ’em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say I love you right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I’ve looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed
Well something’s lost, but something’s gained
In living ev’ry day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all
I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all

-- Joni Mitchell

Tracing a meme's journey

The other day, one of my friends said "Never explain. Friends don't need it and enemies don't believe it."

Now this statement happens to be a distorted version of a sentence from one of my favorite short stories. I don't think he has read that story. I don't mean to cast aspersions here about his well-readness for he is one of the most well-read people around -- just don't think he reads that genre.

I wonder who read it and at what stage of thought transfer was it distorted. Interesting how memes transfer and mutate.

Of course, a simpler solution is that the story is not the origin of this thought; instead both versions are descended from some other origin.

Elven thoughts

Was slapped back to life by someone who commented on what my Sunday evenings had become. Above sentence will not make sense to anyone except that person and I (or is it me?).

Newayz, to vaguely express the feelings expressed by that comment and those felt by me -- I engaging in mundane chores while I should be enjoying myself on weekends -- Me wasting summer by cooping myself up in the lab -- I living the best years of my life joylessly and uselessly(ok, that is going a bit far).

So decided to restrict guilt-driven research to weekdays only. Enjoy weekends. Thought 'So what do I enjoy doing most?'. Spent a Saturday curled up on my bed reading a good book. Spent an hour cycling. Went back to lab on Sunday.

The reason being this: I don't need to go and do something to be happy. I walk to school everyday through a park. Every day I pause to hear the leaves rustling, to smell the scent of the trees, to see a stream gurgle down like a happy child. Every night I look at the stars as I go home, singing at the top of my voice. (I managed to frighten a couple of new students as a result, but that is a different story.)

There is a hidden path that leads to a beautiful spot near the Creek. Let's sit there some evening.
There is a arbor in a grove on the top of a hill. You will like the view.
And there is a song for that place alone, to be sung in sunlight and moonlight and starlight.

I try to laugh but cry instead

I’m lifting you up
I’m letting you down
I’m dancing till dawn
I’m fooling around
I’m not giving up
I’m making your love
This city’s made us crazy and we must get out

- Maroon 5 (Must Get Out)

The Idea

First posts are always so awkward.

Why singularity?

In mathematics, a singularity is, in general, a point at which a given mathematical object is not defined, or a point of an exceptional set where it fails to be well-behaved in some particular way.

The idea is

• To stop being predictable
• To break free and fly
• To stop loving and to start loving
• To smell, to hear and to see
• To stop dying and to start living