Still at MegaConLive. I’ve not done this kind of con before (and still wouldn’t, were it not for my tweenager and her various obsessions). Not my jam, and that’s fine.
But if there’s one thing for which I can sing it’s praises: everybody we’ve met is super friendly and nice. Sure, you can loudly telegraph your fandoms and identities via cosplay,
accessories, masks, badges, bracelets or whatever… but it’s also just a friendly community of folks to just talk to.
The fashion choices are, more than anything, just an excuse to engage: a way to say “hey, here’s a conversation starter if you’d like to talk to me!”
Overheard a conversation between my kid and another of a similar age, and there was a heartwarming moment where the other kid said, “oh wow, I thought I was the only one!” Adorbs.
I may have been dragged to MegaConLive London by my multi-fandom loving 12-year-old, but I at least managed to find somebody worth getting a selfie with.
My 12-year-old’s persuaded me to take her to MegaConLive London this weekend.
As somebody who doesn’t pay much attention to the pop culture circles represented by such an event (and hasn’t for 15+ years, or whenever it was that Asdfbook came out?)…
have you got any advice for me, Internet?
As part of my efforts to reclaim the living room from the children, I’m building a new gaming PC for the playroom. She’s called Bee, and – thanks to the absolute insanity that is
The Tower 300 case from Thermaltake – she’s one of the most bonkers PC cases I’ve ever worked in.
Back at the Rollright Stones fire New Year’s Day, per family tradition. This year the younger child counted 74, the elder 59. The curse that prevents
you counting the same number twice continues!
I’m not sure which of our children was last in this bath, but the configuration in which they’ve left their toys makes me feel as though I’m the subject of some kind of
waterfowl-related shunning.
Perhaps they finally got wind or my heretical opinions on the God of Ducks (may he throw us bread) and they’ve collectively decided to disassociate from me?
The younger child and I were talking about maths on the school run this morning, and today’s topic was geometry. I was pleased to discover that he’s already got a reasonable
comprehension of the Pythagorean Theorem1:
I was telling him that I was about his age when I first came across it, but in my case I first had a practical, rather than theoretical, impetus to learn it.
It was the 1980s, and I was teaching myself Dr. Logo, Digital Research‘s implementation of the Logo programming language (possibly from this book). One day, I was writing a program to draw an indoor scene, including a window
through which a mountain would be visible. My aim was to produce something like this:
My window was 300 “steps”2
tall by 200 steps wide and bisected in both directions when I came to make my first attempt at the mountain.
And so, naively, starting from the lower-left, I thought I’d need some code like this:
RIGHT 45
FORWARD 100
RIGHT 90
FORWARD 100
But what I ended up with was this:
Hypotenuse? More like need-another-try-potenuse.
I instantly realised my mistake: of course the sides of the mountain would need to be longer so that the peak would reach the mid-point of the window and the far side
would hit its far corner. But how much longer ought it to be.
I intuited that the number I’d be looking for must be greater than 100 but less than 250: these were, logically, the bounds I was working within. 100 would be correct if my
line were horizontal (a “flat” mountain?), and 250 was long enough to go the “long way” to the centrepoint of the window (100 along, and 150 up). So I took a guess at 150 and… it was
pretty close… but still wrong:
I remember being confused and frustrated that the result was so close but still wrong. The reason, of course, is that the relationship between the lengths of the sides of a triangle
don’t scale in a 1:1 way, but this was the first time I found myself having to think about why.
So I found my mother and asked her what I was doing wrong. I’m sure it must have delighted her to dust-off some rarely-accessed knowledge from her own school years and teach me about
Pythagoras’!
The correct answer, of course, is given by:
I so rarely get to use MathML that I had to look up the syntax.
The answer, therefore, is… 141.421 (to three decimal places). So I rounded to 141 and my diagram worked!3
What made this maths lesson from my mother so memorable was that it fed a tangible goal. I had something I wanted to achieve, and I learned the maths that I
needed to get there. And now it’s impermeably etched onto my brain.
I learned the quadratic equation formula and how to perform algebraic integration by rote, and I guarantee that it’s less well-established in my long-term memory than, say, the sine and
cosine rules or how to solve a simultaneous equation because I’ve more-often needed to do those things outside of the classroom!
So I guess the lesson is that I should be trying to keep an eye out for practical applications of maths that I can share with my kids. Real problems that are interesting to solve, to
help build the memorable grounding that latter supports the more-challenging and intangible abstract maths that they may wish to pursue later.
Both kids are sharp young mathematicians, and the younger one seems especially to enjoy it, so feeding that passion feels well-worthwhile. Perhaps I should show them TRRTL.COM so they can try their hand at Logo!
2 Just one way that Logo is/was a cute programming language was its use of “steps” – as
in, turtle-steps – to measure distances. You might approximate them as pixels, but a “step” has meaning even for lines that don’t map linearly to pixels because they’re at wonky
angles, for example.
3 I’d later become unstuck by rounding, while trying to make a more-complex diagram with a
zig-zag pattern running along a ribbon: a small rounding error became compounded over a long time and lead to me being a couple of pixels off where I intended. But that’s another
story.
Very easy find for the kids and I after a delightful visit to the Tram Museum. We went to the coordinates and instantly saw the cache! SL, TFTC, and greetings from Oxfordshire, UK.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Third of Bleptember, and this routine-loving pupper is still confused by the fact that the elder child doesn’t come on the school-run morning walk any more, instead leaving
early to catch the bus to her new school. Look at those big anxious eyes, poor thing!
