First eBay sale

I’ve joined the ranks of those who have at least listed an item on eBay. In this case, it’s the Sony headphones that I want to sell in order to get money for a snazzier pair. These are brand new and in the original packaging.

I may have set the minimum bid a bit high, but you can’t set a reserve price under £50 and I’m really not willing to sell these for less than £15 after spending almost £25 on them. In any case, we will see how this experiment in commerce goes.

[Update: 21 June 2006] With exactly 12 seconds left in the auction, someone placed a bid. Looks like I am offloading these headphones for £15 plus the cost of shipping.

The economics of it all:

Price initially paid on Amazon: £25.66 C$53.01

Payment received from eBay: £15.00 C$30.99
Shipping fee from eBay: £2.00 C$4.13

eBay listing fee: £1.29 C$2.68
PayPal currency fee: £0.86 C$1.77
Cost of packaging: £0.49 C$1.01
Cost of shipping: £0.68 C$1.40
Net eBay income: £13.68 C$28.26

Amazon cost – eBay income: -£11.98 -C$24.75

In the end, choosing to buy these headphones cost me about twenty-five bucks for three months’ usage. Let’s hope the ones I choose to replace them with last much longer.

Not quite the Guggenheim

Columns outside the British MuseumYesterday, before the Strategic Studies dinner, I made my second ever purchase of original art of the ‘hang on the wall variety.’ It’s a moderately good imitation Rothko oil on canvas painting, which I bought for less than ten quid from someone leaving the country. Friends from Vancouver might remember the pastel on paper head that was my first such purchase. I bought him from Kate’s friend Neal Rockwell in Victoria for $10 about seven years ago. It accompanied me through living in Totem Park and Fairview Crescent: always glaring outwards with these shocking eyes that I nonetheless found fascinating enough to never regret buying the thing or having it around. I felt a real affinity with that haunted figure.

By comparison, this 50x60cm rectangle of differing reds with a white rectangle near the top is much less interesting. While it definitely beats the blank – and somewhat battered – wall that it is now covering, Antonia and I both noticed upon hanging it that it somewhat resembles a video iPod in proportions: with the upper white rectangle corresponding to the screen. Probably, it will take me a while to reach a comprehensive and final judgment. Like music, I can tell immediately if there is the possibility that I will really like it, but it takes me at least a week to determine if I actually do.

Morality of Kosovo-style wars

This afternoon, I saw Henry Shue give a talk for the Changing Character of War Program on ethics and the targeting of civilian infrastructure – such as power plants – during wartime. While I am sure he put a lot of thought into it, it was not ultimately convincing. Largely overlooked were a number of key factors.

His basic argument was that states can behave morally by leaving enough infrastructure, such as electrical power, to maintain the basic needs of the civilian population. If the state starts with twenty power plants – and it takes three to run basic hospital services, water treatment, and the like – you can morally bomb seventeen, but not eighteen, of them. Even if the enemy state then uses that remaining capacity for military purposes, the moral responsibility of the first state to not imperil large numbers of civilians will be upheld.

The first problem with this is that the re-tasking of such capacity to military purposes is very predictable. In the US, Canada, and UK there was extensive rationing during the second world war. While it didn’t put anyone into a state of desperate privation, that is reflective of the fact that it wasn’t necessary to make such cuts. I am sure people died in the Soviet Union because resources were directed towards the war effort instead. If a state knows that the capacity they leave will be thus re-tasked, how is that morally different from destroying it, from the perspective of protecting civilians? How responsible are states for immoral actions taken by others, but prompted by their own actions and predictable in occurrence? Human security isn’t meant to be about whether the attacking state is blameless or not; it is meant to be about maintaining the lives and human rights of people in general. As a teleological objective, it’s hard to see how such a simple deontological moral axiom holds.

Also, there is the question of what the moral difference is between a civilian noncombatant and someone who has been forcefully drafted. Why is blowing up an apartment block worse than blowing up a barracks full of teenage conscripts? Likewise, there is the matter of how the purposes for which things like power plants are being used can be determined.

Dr. Shue’s analysis did raise and try to address many of these questions, but did not do so in a comprehensive or forceful way. I suspect a more complete answer would require the rejection of some of the rationalist assumptions that underlay his whole analysis. He assumed, for instance, that citizens could choose freely to support their government or not. Likewise, he didn’t give any special consideration to the psychologies of warfare: an element that would need to be included in a normative theory with real-world applicability.

The degree to which such questions are really engaging makes me feel as though I should take his normative theory optional paper next year. It might lead to some excellent discussions.

PS. The talk also reminded me of one of the reasons I thought the Spider Man films were so bad. At one point, Spidey is offered the choice between saving his love interest or a whole tram full of civilians: a real moral dilemma. Instead of having to actually give him such a difficult moral choice – akin to choices made by powerful people and organizations all the time – the filmmakers allow him to use his super powers to save both. Such cop outs, when it comes to grappling with ethical questions, serve no good purpose.

From academic discourse to fistcuffsmanship

Wadham College Gardens

Tonight’s supervision went really well. Dr. Hurrell seemed unusually positive about my essay, and the conversation was engaging and useful. Afterwards, I spent a few hours with a group of Wadham students. At first, we were in Wadham’s Ho Chi Hinh Quad, before moving to the King’s Arms. There, some disagreement seemed to nearly lead to a brawl, so I cycled home. With a seminar at 11:00am tomorrow, it seemed wise.

I still owe Dr. Hurrell three papers, but I can console myself with the knowledge of seeing Antonia at OUSSG tomorrow, then having dinner with Claire on Wednesday, meeting lunch with Bilyana on Thursday, and possibly meeting Roz on Thursday night. It’s great to be seeing so many friends before they leave for the summer: Claire to New York, Roz to Rome, etc. The Wadham Library also got a book that is fairly essential to my thesis today; it is already secured in my backpack.

That clothe The Weald and reach the sky

Pooh Sticks Bridge

Like so much else, the walking trip in The Weald was primarily a good mechanism for meeting new people. All told, fourteen people were part of the expedition. Something about rambling seems to attract people of a scientific or technical bent. I had long conversations during the five hour walk about mettalurgy, the GPS system, the manufacture of large organic molecules for pharmaceuticals, computer programming, fisheries, and the HIV fighting potential of a certain molecule that comes from sea fans. It was definitely a group of people I’d like to spend more time with. One even lent me the new Milan Kundera novel: Immortality.

The walk took place in and around the inspiration for A.A. Milne’s 100 Acre Wood, of Winnie the Pooh fame – though the terrain dates back to the establishment of a hunting park following the Norman Conquest. Marked features were low verdant hills, and idyllic stands of deciduous trees around small creeks. Throughout the hike (and the 2.5 hour minibus trips both ways), the sun was intense enough to make me fear that I will rosy tomorrow, despite the use of sunscreen and my wide-brimmed canoeing hat. I have an obvious watch tan.

Particularly appealing is the prospect of doing a trip to the Lake District with this group. I’ve been told that it’s an essential place to see, and to do so with such an obviously qualified and interesting sect is a welcome thing to contemplate. There is much about fit young scientists that appeals to me. Likewise, places of natural beauty that includes mountains.

After three days of devoted walking in the hot sun, followed by little sleep, my muscles are all clenched up and aching. I may allow myself to sleep in a bit tomorrow, before scrambling to come up with an excuse for Dr. Hurrell, explaining why I don’t have a paper for him. Given that we still have an undiscussed one to cover, he shouldn’t be too harsh on me.

PS. While walking to and from the rendezvous for the hike, I gave my first listen-through to Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. Some of the songs I can already tell are superb.

PPS. Being way too busy to read emails or blog posts is a novel and not entirely unwelcome experience. I feel like I’ve had a miniature vacation, right in the middle of an Oxford term.

London Gallery Tour

Antonia outside the Tate Modern

The primary focus of my trip to London with Antonia was art galleries. We saw sculpture in Canada House, off Trafalgar Square. We saw paintings in the National Gallery, National Portrait Gallery, and Tate Modern; also, photography in the National Theatre and additional sculpture in other places. Seeing art with a clever and interested fellow observer is wonderful for offsetting the overwhelming character of a place like any of the museums listed above. When that other person is also well versed in historical and mythological iconography, it is even more welcome. When you have dozens of original Dalis, Kandinskys, and Picassos strewn about, it can be hard to maintain focus.

Developing focus in the first place is hard when you need to wake up at 5:45am. As a reward, we were at the British Museum just in time for its opening. Right now, there is a fascinating temporary exhibit on Arabic calligraphy and artwork. Some of the material included is really superb; I especially enjoyed some of the examples where Asiatic kinds of calligraphy and Arabic lettering had been forged into elegant hybrids. Before leaving the British Museum, we also took a guided tour of the Islamic World section, as well as wandering on our own through the North American, Central American (where many of the sculptures have superb facial expression), and ancient British Isles areas. As always, the central atrium – installed sometime before my first visit in 2001 – is a striking piece of artwork in its own right, much like the turbine room in the Tate Modern. I love the elation and sense of safety I feel when enclosed in huge open-air geometric spaces.

Atrium of the British Museum

After walking through Soho and Chinatown, Antonia and I arrived in Trafalgar Square. After a perfunctory security check, we were allowed into Canada House, though sadly not invited to the wine reception that was being prepared. Instead, I got around to finally registering as a Canadian national living in the UK and we had a look at some of the Canadian stone sculpture that was on display.

Words and shapes

I really should dig through all the collected brochures to attach names to these descriptions, but I have neither the time nor the energy just now. Perhaps in future sittings.

Also at Trafalgar Square (aside from a version of Nelson’s column covered with scaffolding for repair, with the scaffolding decorated with sea life as a warning about global warming) are the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery. At the first, we saw a terrifically frightening dragon that I am hoping Antonia will identify in a comment. All efforts at photography there were quite effectively thwarted. As has generally been the case, the National Portrait Gallery was an illustration of how few British authors, politicians, and public figures I have heard of. They lack a portrait of Douglas Adams: an oversight that really must be rectified.

The London Eye

Between that and the next art viewing (at the National Theatre), we met with two sets of Antonia’s friends – the first a friend from ancient schooldays and the second the kind gentleman who put a roof over my head for the unplanned overnight stay. At the National Theatre, we saw an exhibition of the top photojournalistic images of the year. Some were extremely good – particularly a portrait of Kofi Annan that makes superb use of contrast, composition, and dynamic range. Many were exceptionally gruesome, as I suspect is not unusual for such compositions.

Delicious pizza

After pizza-walking-sleep-wake-shower, the next day proceeded to the Tate Modern via a picnic. From National Theatre to Antonia’s friend Jong’s house was one long arc with the Gherkin as the central point. The return trip to the Tate Modern was essentially the converse. Since the recent major re-hang, I don’t entirely have my bearings in that fascinating place. As such, every return visit has the feel of rediscovery to it, much as I lament the fact that Hepworth’s Pelagos has been relocated to Cornwall. There, we met another friend of Antonia’s who is on the Tate staff related to planning and executing activities for children and families. A great way to be initiated into such a wonderful collection of art, no doubt.

My thanks to Antonia for the company that was the highlight of the trip, and to Jong who was kind enough to accompany us for a long while, and house us as well.

I would write more, but I need to get to sleep. It’s another 6:00am reveille tomorrow.

Quick London summary

Having just returned from London after one more day than I was planning to spend, I am living in hecticposttriptime. There is much that needs to be done before I leave for The Weald with the Walking Club at 8:00am tomorrow, outside Trinity. The trip with Antonia proved to be very good: we saw quite a collection of galleries and museums, met some of her friends, and generally accessed the city in a very satisfying way. I came back with about five kilos of tofu (bought at an eighth of the Oxford price, in Soho’s Chinatown), two kinds of black bean sauce, and wasabi peas.

Two big and welcome surprises accompanied my return: the discovery that Meghan Mathieson has extremely generously sent me a copy of the new Neko Case CD Fox Confessor Brings the Blues, along with a letter, and the reception of a message from Rosalind that indicates that there has been a miscommunication working against us. While she is only going to be in the country for a few more weeks, tops, there seems to have been a considerable and unexpected reconciliation.

I will post a more thorough write-up, with photos, sometime later tonight.

Northward along canals

Canalside house

By the fading light this evening, I took an unusually interesting ten mile ride. Initially cutting due north, I veered west until I found a canal I’d never seen before: lined with narrowboats and punctuated with weirs and numbered red brick bridges. After about four miles, I found myself at the intersection with the Oxford Canal. I tried an offshoot path labeled ‘River Thames’ but was rapidly foiled when the path narrowed almost immediately, became composed of unstable dirt clods, and proved to be flanked with shoulder-high stinging nettles.

Once you get more than a couple of miles up along the canal, it seems like a completely different world from the residential and commercial parts of Oxford, as well as the kind of roadway-intersected countryside around Kidlington or Cassington. The houses, which vary in frequency along different stretches, have yards opening right out onto the waterway. Cats and children fishing seem to be common, and the general sense of direction that it is easy to maintain on roads falls victim rapidly to the gentle curves of the branching canals.

The light – between about 8:10 and 9:30pm – was that really lovely warm and directed sunset light, though still bright enough to support ISO100 handheld shots at 50mm or so, in the open spaces at least. The only trouble is that the sky is completely blown out in every shot. Perhaps a polarizer would have helped.

Riding on gravel or dirt track takes dramatically more effort than doing so on blacktop: basically constant peddling in my second-lowest gear in order to maintain speed. The feeling is rather more substantial at the end, however.

Since I need to be at Gloucester Green for the bus to London at seven, I should try to get to sleep early. This is unlikely. Being ill the other day (and sleeping fourteen hours) has completely thrown off my sleeping schedule. I find myself waking up ravenous at random times between three and seven in the morning, always a sure sign that it will take a concerted effort to get things on track. That will only be possible once these two upcoming trips have passed.

PS. To anyone considering replicating the ride above, I suggest wearing glasses. The canalside bugs seem particularly drawn to the eyes of cyclists, and a few uncontrolled moments could easily land you among the floating ducks.

PPS. With two days left in this round, please keep voting for Mica’s video.

Another scholarship rejection

It was the J. Armand Bombardier Internationalist Fellowship this time. They lose points for sending out rejections by email. “Dear Applicant…” It was always a long shot, with 678 applicants for 25 fellowships and what I am told is a strong preference for people aiming at French language related programs.

Now, there are only two small ones left, plus the departmental bursary: for which all of these rejections (Commonwealth, Chevening, ORS, Bombardier, etc) are actually an advantage. I have never actually received any scholarship for which an application was necessary: only automatic faculty and departmental scholarships and UBC and funding offers from grad schools other than Oxford.

Any friends out there who applied for this and don’t get an email in the next few hours, take heart. A cool $10,000 might be coming your way.

[Unrelated] Someone left a link to this optical illusion as a comment. It’s well worth a look.