Sunday, 13 January 2008

Mostly Harmless Tangos

They're all part of the fun, but I wonder how many of my species you recognise?

  • Powerpoint tango
  • S ... p ... a ... c ... e ... d ... O ... u ... t ... t ... a ... n ... g ... o (Remember the super-super-super slo-mo when Channel 4 had the cricket?)
  • iPod tango (what are you listening to? Is it good?)
  • Supreme Pontiff tango (I'm just the audience)
  • Motorised Corset tango (please may I breathe when we get where we're going?)
  • Bad Sex tango (noisy, but the ceiling needs painting)
  • Frog-in-a-blender milonga (heels down, heels down, heels down - oops!)
  • 8-step basic vals

I'm getting fewer of them all as my own dancing gets better, but the mildest sense of adventure usually gets you one. A mental taxonomy is my way of dealing with it, although if I get the giggles while I'm actually dancing it can be tricky to explain away. I almost did that once tonight, so I thought I'd spread it around.

My limited experience (following only) doesn't allow me to know what the equivalent follower faults are. I've heard about the wet fish and the kung-fu princess, and I've seen lipstick in some surprising places. I'm almost starting to be tempted to find out.

Thursday, 10 January 2008

First Aid at Work

hedgehog holding a bandaidI'm doing a First Aid at Work course this week. My office has just rearranged itself, and there aren't enough qualified First Aiders in the building for the number of people. I volunteered because I'm a gannet for useful knowledge, but now I'm feeling a bit alarmed at the responsibility.

Still, I'd rather know how to do it than not, and the office is paying.

I now know how to dress cuts and burns to the arms, legs, and head, and what to do if someone loses a finger or a tooth; how to make two different sorts of sling; how to identify and treat shock due to loss of blood; what to do if you have angina, a heart attack, a fit, a nosebleed, a blackout, an asthma attack, anaphylactic shock, a broken limb, broken ribs, a broken pelvis, a broken jaw, a head injury, a neck injury, spinal fluid coming out of your ears, heatstroke, hypothermia, hypoglycaemia, hyperglycaemia, or a sucking chest wound; how to tell and what to do if you've had a stroke; where to hit you and squeeze you if you are choking, and how many times to try it before calling the ambulance; how to put you in the recovery position if you're unconscious but still breathing, how to do CPR if you stop breathing, and keep you half-alive till the ambulance arrives, and in what circumstances to remove a crushing object, or a motorcycle helmet, or not to.

It's quite scary.

The only things I can think of that are actually likely to happen in my office are superficial burns from the kettle, and anything brought on by stress. I suppose there's always your basic nut allergy. Or someone could trip over one of those stupid laptop bags and hit their head on a cabinet; or put their eye out with their own pencil. Those could happen.

The exam is tomorrow. I think I'll do OK in the exam, but I'm not sure how I'll remember it all afterwards. Perhaps if I build it into my daydreams? With extra drama and a lively cast of characters freely adapted from real life?

More G&G for comparison

For those of enquiring mind, here's some more Gustavo & Giselle. After Christmas they went to Amsterdam and performed to some of the same pieces of music. If you play this and the London playlist (why not open in a new window and tile them?), you can compare the "Pavadita" in Amsterdam with the one at the Crypt, and the "Don Juan" in Amsterdam with the one at the Dome, although that one's a bit dark. Track list below.

Tracks in Amsterdam - in order - with thanks to 3Oktober for the videos and track names.

  1. Pavadita - De Angelis
  2. Don Juan - Di Sarli
  3. Este es el Rey - Color Tango
  4. Tokio luminoso - Pugilese/Ariel Espandrio
  5. Palomita blanca - Troilo

Their dancing is amazing and I love their taste in music. I am deeply ignorant about music so if you have anything to say about that, comment.

Wednesday, 9 January 2008

Apology

I've worked in IT for so long now that I just can't bring myself to do anything that resembles a chain letter.

So this is my apology to anyone who sent me a chain-blog and who may feel offended. It has nothing to do with you personally; I just don't do them, ever. It feels Bad and Wrong, and I can't do it, even for you.

Love
Hedgehog

Sunday, 6 January 2008

How the brain controls the body

Why is it that we (in the broadest sense of 'we') can build a computer that beats grandmasters at chess, but not a robot that manipulates a chess piece with the dexterity of a six-year-old child? And we don't even have any real idea how to start approaching this problem?

How, in fact, does the brain control the body? In this public lecture at the Royal Society, Professor Daniel Wolpert of Cambridge University explains that no-one really has a clue.

I go to scientific lectures whenever I can. I don't think I went to any in 2007 but it's time to start again. There are all sorts of wonderful things out there, and the ones where they tell you what they don't know are often profoundly interesting. This is one. The Royal Society video their public lectures and put an archive on their website, and they're quite often webcast live; you can see the calendar here, and you can subscribe to podcasts.

This is what I thought when I went to this lecture (in 2005 I think it was). There's a kind of spider called the bolas spider. It hunts for moths by making a lassoo of silk with a gob of glue on the end. It whirls the lassoo in the air with one leg, catches a moth, reels it in and eats it. The spider is the size of your thumbnail. How many neurons has the thing got? How does it control its body well enough do all this? Clearly, nature solved the problem of controlling extremely complex movement in an unpredictable world a very, very long time ago. By the time trilobites came along, it had been completely nailed for millions of years. Somehow, it must be simpler than it looks.

But nobody knows how it works. There is lots of data - but there's no theory, says Professor Wolpert. Watch the lecture for more.

He talks a lot about noise and how the nervous system deals with the unpredictable world (we don't know), why animals have brains and plants don't, and why it makes sense that Tiger Woods earns a lot of money.

On looking up the bolas spider, I read that it is very sensitive to vibrations, and responds if you pluck guitar strings at it. Did you know that Charles Darwin played the clarinet to worms, to see what they would do?

Saturday, 5 January 2008

Gustavo & Giselle updated

It's new year - back to more dancing. I've updated the playlist of Gustavo & Giselle. If you have video of any of the other three dances at the Dome, or the four at the Welsh Centre, please, please stick it on YouTube and mention it in the Comments.

I saw them at all three venues and they were magic.

I think my favourite so far is the third one from the Crypt. I also like the milonga a lot. It's just so much fun; and it's nice that Michiko with the flowers is included at the end (thanks tanguero2x4). The one from the Dome was great to watch live but it was too dark to video well. But anyway, they're all magic.


[Edit: this currently plays 5 videos:
1 The Dome
2, 3, 4 and 5 The Crypt]

Wednesday, 2 January 2008

The dancing-master of Aberdeen

In the year 1742, some influential inhabitants of Aberdeen represented to the Town Council "that the town was at great loss for want of a right dancing master to educate their children". After a certain amount of thought, the Council resolved to advertise for a suitable person, and two candidates presented themselves to show their qualifications to the Magistrates, in front of a crowd of gentlemen and ladies in Trinity Hall.

James Stuart, of Montrose, was found to be better at dancing and teaching, and he was employed; but it seems he was unsatisfactory, for in 1746 the council resolved to advertise again for "a person of sober, discreet and moral character". They soon got a letter from Mr. John Dawney, dancing-master in Edinburgh, recommending as suitable a Mr. Francis Peacock. Apparently he suited the council, and on Valentine's Day of 1747 they made Mr. Peacock, then twenty-three, the official and sole Dancing-Master of Aberdeen during his good behaviour, agreeing to pay him seven shillings sterling per student per month, together with some money to organise the music.

Mr. Peacock seems to have liked Aberdeen, and very promptly married a local young lady and settled down. He taught the inhabitants of Aberdeen to dance; he became a prominent member of the Musical Society; he published books of music, and composed; he painted miniature portraits; he took care of business, became a man of means, was much esteemed in Aberdeen, and built himself Villa Franca, a country house.

Francis Peacock remained the dancing-master of Aberdeen for fifty years. He died in 1807 at the age of eighty-four, giving his name to Peacock's Close, where he had his school. Two years before he died, he had published a manual for teaching dancing, some of which the University of Aberdeen has very public-mindedly republished on its website. Mr. Peacock condemns affectation and gives advice on dress:

In short, any thing rather than gaudy cloaths; for these, at best, are but the trappings of folly, and will never recommend a man to the esteem of people of sense.

An advertisement at the front of the book recites his experience and tells who his tutors were. It also reveals that proceeds from its sales were destined not for Mr. Peacock himself, but for the Aberdeen Lunatic Hospital. How it sold I do not know, but surely it was well.

The above information about Francis Peacock's life is from Aberdeen Street Names, G. M. Fraser, 1911. The dates he gives, from the Council Register, don't quite agree with what the University has, I don't know why.

Why am I telling you this? Because it may please you as much as it pleases me. Here is another extract:

I may here observe, that there cannot be a greater proof of the utility of Dancing, than its being so universally adopted, as a material circumstance in the education of the youth of both sexes, in every civilised country. Its tendency to form their manners, and to render them agreeable, as well in public as in private; the graceful and elegant ease which it gives to the generality of those who practice it with attention, are apparent to everyone of true discernment.

The Lunatic Hospital - now the Royal Cornhill - still exists. As for the question of why city councils no longer employ dancing-masters, in Scotland or anywhere else - well, things have changed, and perhaps they may change again.