Document your life

Dubstep has now taken over my life so much that I struggle to spell the word "base", and even when I read the said word, I see it written as "bass".

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration... Anyway, shall we get to my point?

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Se fai il mio nome non ci sono più...

That is: "If you say my name, I no longer exist..." One for anyone who's seen La Vita è Bella there ;-)

Well, that's the quote that leapt into my head with a purpose towards the end of last year. I was sitting there trying to solve a coding problem, and getting nowhere. I wrote the problem down, and no sooner had I started writing than I saw the solution. My new technique for solving coding problems? If I'm stuck with a problem, then I write it down. As if by magic, on the journey from the inexistent world of my mind into the realm of harsh and tangible existence, the problem will be solved.

But it's not magic - I mean, clearly the resolution has a lot to do with the verbalisation process. Unlike silence, maybe saying the name of a problem won't make it disappear - forget the Italian riddler and all the Schopenhauerian bullshit idealist philosophy that forms the framework around which La Vita è Bella is based, and think of the words of Mr. Logic himself, good old Bertie Russell:

"The greatest challenge to any thinker is stating the problem in a way that will allow a solution"

I'm getting carried away with quotes here; let me pull the focus back to what I was heading for...

DIARIES.

I've kept a running commentary on my experiences, emotions, dreams, ambitions, fears and philosophies for the past 7 years now, and what for? Mainly to just pass the time, because life is dull and writing is one of my favourite forms of entertainment. Partly as an outlet, to tell myself the things I can't tell anyone else. But my scribblings are more than just a log of a sometimes exciting, often depressing life. History books are written not just so that we can fantasise about the past, but so that we don't forget what happened, and so that we can learn from experience. We sometimes refer to diaries as being memoirs, and indeed these books also serve as very useful aides-mémoire. Language betrays the fact that memory and experience are inextricable.

I'll digress to give another work-related anecdote: last week, I took a problem to the team that was responsible for solving such problems. I said: "This problem cropped up a few weeks ago, so you must know how to fix it," and the guy said: "Yeah, I went out of the room, and when I came back, John had fixed it, but I don't know what he did, and he's on holiday at the moment." I laughed, and said: "Next time you solve a problem, write down the answer!"

Anyway, back to diaries as aides-mémoire... We write down our problems. Writing them down may solve them, but it usually doesn't: life problems, being trapped in the insanely complex web that is reality, are generally more complicated than simple logical conundrums, which stick out like a sore thumb in the smooth world of ideals. However, even if it won't solve the problem instantly, writing a life problem down is often the first step towards tackling it. Writing the solution down is the really crucial part. Why is it the case that most of us are more capable of remembering a problem (so capable of remembering the problem, in fact, that we return to it over and over again - that is, we repeat the same mistakes), than we are at remembering the solution?!

I'll put it together for you now. I was on my way home recently, and I felt rubbish. I was so tired and fed up that I couldn't even write to pass the time, so I just read my diary instead. And, bizarrely enough, among the entries that made me go "Whoah!", "Really?", "Oh yeah, I remember!", and "Did it really go on for so long?", I found a few pages that made me sit up and pay attention. There in front of me was the solution I didn't know existed. I found the answer last year - in fact, I must've found the answer many years ago, but I seem destined to forget it perpetually. Whatever, my little book of memoirs told me how to proceed. I went home and thought about what I'd read. I mean, I must write stuff down because it has some importance to me. Maybe last August's Pete was right - maybe I should take his advice?

Well anyway, I took that advice, and I got right back on top of things.

Still, you can take a horse to the water but you can't make it drink. And I'd probably never drink that water if it wasn't for some really special influences, who make me feel like it's all worthwhile ;-)


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(How long before I crash again?! Give it a couple of weeks... Questa vita è assurda! ASSURDA!!!)