Sunday, 30 July 2023

atypical Kings Cross

My flight back from Japan landed at Heathrow at 6:30am, and my luggage was off very quickly.  Because I was in no rush, everything was very efficient, and I found myself at Kings Cross station at 7:50am, with over an hour to kill until the first train home.  Time for breakfast!

At 7:50 on a Sunday morning, Kings Cross is spookily deserted:

I don't think I've ever seen the concourse floor before...

Even Platform 9¾ was virtually empty:


Everything was back to the normal organised chaos by the time my train arrived, though.



Saturday, 29 July 2023

Nakajima Park

My flight home today is a late evening one, so I had most of the day to kill first.  I had a look at a map, and decided to visit Nakajima Park, a few stops south on the metro from my hotel.

One reason I chose the park is the map showed it contains Sapporo City Observatory.

Aha! I spied an open door!  I walked up to it, and yes, it was open for viewing.  Not only that, but the telescope was configured to see the sun.  A Japanese gentleman welcomed me in, and indicated I should take a look.  It was a great view of a quite spotty sun.  Then he pointed to another eyepiece.  This had another filter enabling me to see several prominences.  Once he realised I knew what I was looking at, we had a nice little conversation about the telescope and some pictures on the wall taken with it.

After that pleasant interlude I continued my walk around the park.  There were many good views across the lake.


And there were more formal garden arrangements.

this must look magnificent when the wisteria is in bloom

It was very hot, so I found an ice cream place, and sat enjoying it, while being regales with 1970s pop music.  Then, of course, I needed to find a public convenience.  I had discovered there are two styles: the over-the-top luxurious loos with heated seats and built in everything, and the holes in the ground.  The park had only the more primitive option.

the romance of travel

Then it was time for lunch, then back to the hotel to talk about neuromorphic computing with another colleague over iced coffee.

Ready to fly home tonight.



Thursday, 27 July 2023

Sapporo Art Park

The ALife conference is great!  I'm really enjoying the workshops, the presentations, and catching up with colleagues who I haven't seen in person since 2019.  (I'm not enjoying the heat so much, though.)

Today we got a break from the hard work, with an excursion to the Sapporo Art Park.  There were lots of things to view, but I (and many of my colleagues) spent quite a while in the interactive "Animals of Flowers" room.

Here, wriggling lizards and geckos and flowers and snakes and more were projected on to the walls and floor.  If you stamped on one, it emitted a load of flowers.

a projected critter

What I didn't realise at first, until I saw some surprising creatures, was that this was truly interactive: there were pieces of paper with outlines of the critters that you could colour in, give to a staff member to be scanned in, then watch your design come to life!

seems I'm not the only one who went to GECCO and ALife back to back!

It was surprisingly engaging: I found myself grinning widely at all the critters moving around and the exploding flowers.

They had closed the ice cream stall just before we left the installation.  Oh well.

Then it was off to the conference dinner and awards ceremony.




Sunday, 23 July 2023

view from a hotel window

Another day, another hotel in another country.  I barely had 36 hours at home after getting back from the GECCO conference in Lisbon, before leaving to travel to the Artificial Life conference in Sapporo, Japan.  I thought long and hard about whether this was a sensible thing to do, but I really really wanted to go to ALife: it's one of my favourites, and it hasn't been held in person since 2019.  So here I am, having arrived late last night, with a day off to recover from the 17 hours of flight (having to fly the long way keeping south to avoid flying over Russia; and with a change in Tokyo).

the hotel room, while about the same price as the one in Lisbon, is about a quarter the size

A colleague and I decided to find where the conference venue was, ready for the start tomorrow.  (This conference does not run over a weekend!)  It's a short walk form the hotel to the campus, which has a museum and cafe.  So we visited the museum too (and, obviously, the cafe).

This large mural tells the stories of some field trips to gather specimens.  These people were clearly bonkers.


The mural had an English translation, as did several of the exhibits, but not all.  So it wasn't often clear what the significance of some exhibits was.  That just added to the interest.

only just fits!

I'm looking forward to the conference starting tomorrow.



Saturday, 15 July 2023

view from a hotel window

I took the train down from Porto to Lisbon last night.  Having managed to avoid all the train strikes in the UK so far, I fell foul of one in Portugal, and the train I had booked wasn't running.  My hosts went online to book me on a later one that was running (so I had more time with them: great!)  They very worriedly said they could only get me a first class ticket, however.  I asked how much it would be. 33 Euros. For a three-hour journey most of the length of the country.  I nearly fell off my chair laughing.  I reassured them that would be fine.

Because I arrived late, it was too dark to take the traditional photo from the window, so here it is from this morning:

I'm here in Lisbon at The Genetic and Evolutionary Computation Conference, GECCO 2023, as I'm co-chair of the Complex Systems track.

At registration, I got the usual bits of paper, plus a nice conference bag.  However, I am using a bag I got at an earlier GECCO conference:

the tote bag I got at GECCO 2003, Chicago

Today (yes, the conference runs Saturday to Wednesday) I went to great tutorials on Quality-Diversity Optimisation and on Lexicase Selection, plus a couple of interesting workshops.  It's been a great start to what promises to be a very interesting conference.


Wednesday, 12 July 2023

Porto bookshop and station

I'm visiting some friends near Porto, Portugal for a couple of days before going down to Lisbon for a conference.  They came to pick me up from the airport, so we could do a bit of tourism before going to their place.

First lunch, then a walk around a park, with great views.

a view over the river

Then to a famous bookshop (they know me so well), the Livraria Lello.  It is such a tourist attraction that you have to buy a ticket to go in!  I bought a book about the bookshop.

the staircase at the Livraria Lello; the place was packed

Then afternoon tea, a bit more walking around, then off to the train station with its amazing tiles.


A short train ride later, and a short walk, we arrive at their place.  They have a fantastic view over the sea:


Then dinner and lots of good conversation.





Sunday, 9 July 2023

review: Project Hail Mary

Andy Weir.
Project Hail Mary.
Penguin. 2021

Ryland Grace wakes up in a spaceship. He’s lost his memory. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or why he’s there. The fate of the entire planet Earth hangs on him completing his mission. But he doesn’t know what the mission is, or even that there is one.

This is The Martian on steroids. The problem to solve is bigger, less understood, and more important. The setting is more claustrophobic. The setbacks are more catastrophic. The revelations as he slowly regains his memory are shattering. And the resolution is more emotional.

Great stuff.





For all my book reviews, see my main website.

Saturday, 8 July 2023

review: A Memory Called Empire

Arkady Martine.
A Memory Called Empire.
Tor. 2019

Mahit Dazur has admired and studied the Teixcalaanli Empire all her life, so when she is posted as Ambassador to its capital planet, this should have been a dream come true. But her predecessor appears to have been up to his neck in possibly treasonous politics that led to his murder, everyone else is playing different dangerous games, her technological backup has been sabotaged, the Emperor is dying, a war is brewing, and her poetry is just not up to scratch. She is swept up in events, and needs all her wits to save herself and her homeland; fortunately, she is well endowed with those.

This is gorgeous. We suffer culture shock and alienation along with Mahit, as we gradually discover what is going on. The Aztec-like names and Chinese-style poetry games add an exotic feel, mixed as they are with AIs, brain implants, and hints of alien invasions. The action takes place over only a handful of days, and much of that action occurs through conversations; the descriptions are rich and detailed and never dull; the contrast between Mahit’s acid internal monologues and what she says out loud are beautiful.

I enjoyed this tremendously. Highly recommended.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.

Monday, 3 July 2023

review: How to Do Nothing

Jenny Odell.
How to Do Nothing: resisting the attention economy.
Melville House. 2019 


This isn’t actually about how to do “nothing”: it’s about how to do something meaningful, rather than the nothing that results from being trapped in the shallows of social media and “the attention economy”, of consumerism and incessant productivity. It’s about how to disengage from that time-suck, and how to use the resulting time beneficially.

The argument goes something like this. The attention economy is bad for us: it grabs our attention but doesn’t give anything in return; it’s like junk food engineered for craving more rather than providing nutrition. However, we can’t just walk away from the world and become a hermit: we need some contact with it to function, to keep in touch, to do our work; we are social beings. So we need to “resist in place”: do what is needed, but no more. This is of course difficult, because the digital world is engineered to make it hard to ignore; consumerism is the way our world current runs; not everyone has the resources to just stop.

Odell suggests that one way to resist is to pay “deep attention”, to go down rabbit holes. Rather than skimming over the surface glitter, dig down in one place, and notice, and think. The approach that worked for her stemmed from bird watching. Initially this was paying enough attention to distinguish species; this led to noticing where and when they turned up. From there, it was a short step to thinking about the plants and the local ecology, and further. She describes the experience as “re-rendering” her reality, seeing the world in a new, different way. Ecology is about networks, flows, and a lack of sharp, easily defined boundaries; this less sharply-defined reality needs extra attention and effort to see.

Odell suggests that deep connection with the natural world is what is needed. However, I think many more things are sufficiently fractal to work: you can pay attention and dig deep and discover more and more wherever you start: probably any initial hobby or interest can lead to ever-increasing depth and richness: from birds to ecology; from sport to physiology or economics or equipment design; from crafting to materials engineering and science, or supply chains, or sustainable raw material production; and so on. Indeed, Odell uses discovery of this ever deepening complexity and context as evidence we do not live in a context-free simulation:

[p126] Unlike the manufactured Main Street Cupertino, [the creek] is not there because someone put it there; it is not there to be productive; it is not there as an amenity. It is witness to a watershed that precedes us. In that sense, the creek is a reminder that we do not live in a simulation—a streamlined world of products, results, experiences, reviews—but rather on a giant rock whose other lifeforms operate according to an ancient, oozing, almost chthonic logic. Snaking through the midst of the banal everyday is a deep weirdness, a world of flowerings, decompositions, and seepages, of a million crawling things, of spores and lacy fungal filaments, of minerals reacting and things being eaten away—all just on the other side of the chain-link fence.

Odell finishes by talking of what comes next, after this deep attention has brought (in her case) the ecology front and centre. This ecology has been damaged, and is in need, not necessarily of restoration to some previous supposedly pristine state, but certainly of remediation, to a better, more healthy state. This requires seeing the complexity of what was there originally, and working with that complexity, in a form of “patient collaboration”. This work has no endpoint; it is a process of becoming.

I was surprised to find this turned into a book about the complexity of ecology, so soon after having read What Should a Clever Moose Eat?. They make a good pair. Even it you don’t want to turn your attention to ecology, but rather start with some other hobby or topic of choice, there is a lot to think about in this discussion. Stop consuming digital junk; pay attention to your mental nourishment!




For all my book reviews, see my main website.