lost in translation

This was an email from a professor to students. It's supposed to clarify the homework. I should say something in the way of clarification myself. Matlab is a computer program. Anyway... See if you can follow his english.

Dear All,

For Programming #2, by "pencil-and-paper" we mean using Matlab.

In Matlab, when you have got a string of expression, how to put an array input and get the array output?
Here is the trick by following example

syms x

Note: x and impulse_response are all symbolic strings; t is the numerical array,
"hh" is also an numerical array.

So, the magic is the "subs". To know more on "subs", type "help subs"

HTH. YangQuan Chen


random updates

This is a good read: Nephi and his Asherah. At least I thought it was. Daniel Peterson really is good at writing journals/papers. Most-a-the-time when I read journals and papers (even within, nay; especially within my own field of study) I nod off and can't go two paragraphs without a strong dose of Mountain Dew.

Eeyore's givin' me a big hand on MD. Whee! Babysitting time for them.

I have discovered Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin. And it is beautiful. Which segways into...

Why are Jews so flipping talented? That sounds bad. I have a hard time expressing deep feelings without the use of euphemisms or four letter words. It's not my intent to insult. I'm astounded by how many Jews are household names. Rodgers and Hammerstein were Jewish. (One I believe was raised Catholic, but he still had the blood in him.) The world's pioneers in quantum mechanics and physics were either Jewish, or had one Jewish parent -- Einstein and Bohr. Jerry Seinfeld, the world's funniest guy (in my opinion) is Jewish. George Gershwin, the guy who wrote Rhapsody in Blue was Jewish.

I can't say it enough. I'm astonished by their success and prowess in almost any field known to man. I guess there's your evidence for the existence of God. Jews, God's chosen people, are 12 million strong nowadays. Out 6 billion people in the planet, they happen to dominate the rest of us in Nobel Prize winners. They are excellent statesmen, scientists, entertainers, writers, film makers, businessmen, and literary artists. How can you look at that and say they're not blessed, or supported by a Heavenly Hand?

Hats off to them. They get such a terrible rap. They have been, and sadly, probably always will be, the object of derision, hate, and vitriol at the hands of petty men with jealous hearts. It's really a sad thing to hate a rose for being beautiful. The only thing the Jews are guilty of is success.

After thought...

Common gripe: "The Jews control the world!"

What it should be: "The Jews excel to positions that allow them to be of influence in areas and their success can be written off as mob-mentality fear of a collective of people ruling the world-- a fear I have subscribed to!"


Dirk Magnumforce

If I ever was to be a super hero, my name would be Dirk Magnumforce.

I just thought you should know that I actively think about different ways I could wear a cape, as well as my underwear on the outside of my tights in a socially acceptable way.


80th post

Four score and twenty posts ago, I didn't have a blog.

Despite my little mission statement to the top right, the part where I welcome opposing points of view (I still do), I realize I really have a hard time with criticism.

I'm not sure I want to discuss it. I don't like it, I wish I could take it better. At least I have the comfort of knowing that relatively few people take criticism well.

I will say this... In my head, it feels like I try not to be critical. I'm accountable for the things I don't realize come out of my mouth, I know, but when I'm watching what I'm saying (roughly a third of the time, I imagine) I try not to be critical. So I'm always surprised when someone criticizes me. "Hey, Pal, I coulda blasted you the other day about that one thing, but I didn't. So why dontcha lay off?" This point of view doesn't make any sense from an outsider's view because, of course, the thing that happened the other day has no bearing on the thing I'm currently being criticized for.

I need thicker skin.


Victory is Life

Kneeling in the dark of night,
He clenched his hands and prayed

Bowed his head, opened his heart,
He dutifully obeyed.

The triumph over sin was His
For He chose a different path

When temptation rears its ugly head,
Think of the sorrows He had

Anguish and pain He remembers no more,
so long as I repent,

As long as my soul is His;
as long as my heart is rent.

Lift up your head,
be no more sad,

For you the fight is won.
Victory belongs to those who follow, believe, in God's only Son.

I wanna be rich.

All right, I'll admit it... I wanna be rich.

This is entirely motivated by a drive to be taken care of. My father was a blue-collar working stiff his entire life, and no one recognized his talents because he didn't have money. He couldn't get money because he was a blue-collar working stiff. He was in quite the catch-22, and were it not for obedience to the sacred law of tithing, I feel compelled to admit that life would have been much harder for us growing up. He took care of us, but I know he wanted to do better as far as temporal things go.

It's not like we ran around barefoot collecting cans for money. I wasn't hungry or cold, but I could tell we didn't have much. We didn't have a lot of presents under the tree. We also didn't have the nicest things. I know that my parents wanted to give us these things, but just could not. I don't blame them, not one bit. I'm glad they underlined the lesson that if you don't have the money for something, DON'T BUY IT.

Now the list of things I learned from struggling, and the list of blessings that came from it are a topic for a post of another day. I don't want to buy my children the latest and greatest of everything, but I want to have enough money that taking a child to the dentist doesn't worry me and keep me up all night. I want to be able to laugh that my stupid 16 year old got his first speeding ticket-- not worry that I can't pay for it. I don't want to have my wife sew clothing for them instead of getting new school clothes. I don't want to worry that my car might not get me to work in the morning.

I want to make sure we're safe. (And I want a freaking HUGE fish tank, but first things first, right?)


Fish Christmas List

Now this isn't my real fish tank wish list. I don't think that Google has enough bandwidth to cover a list that long. But this is what I wish to do in the immediate future. I'm trying to meet a budget because I have no cash... Like I said, this is the realistic goal for the future that I think I can do.

1.) Purchase new lights - Need two of the 18W 50/50 kind.
2.) Purchase pump - Need the 2300.
3.) New heater - The 150W dude.
4.) Two bulkheads - The 3/4" black ones.
5.) GE Silicone Type II - Courtesy of Lowe's.
6.) Assorted PVC. I'll just scout Lowe's for what I need.

I guess the hardest part about all this is drilling, cutting, and shaping that I'm going to need to do. I don't have anything but a buzz saw and a drill. My Grandpa still thinks I'm 7, and reminds me to be careful about touching things in his carpentry-tool filed garage, but maybe I can change his mind... *Shakes fist threateningly*

Man I love reef aquaria. Just to get a feel for what I'm talking about, go visit Marc's website. Very nice. Be careful, addiction level is high.

More Digital Photography

There it is. My wife and I saw this as we were taking a walk last Sunday near my parents' house in West Bountiful. Neat, eh?


Voice mail

I can never understand what people say on voice mail. I try to listen to it several times over, hoping that the repetition will help it sink in. Doesn't work. It's always hard to hear the important things, too.

"Hey man, it's R-schzzzzzfffffenderson. I'm from the ward. Call me at 75 'Hon, take care of the kids, will you?' Anyway. Call me back."

Voice mail has made people lazy. You used to hound them until you got a hold of them, or someone else actually wrote down what you had to say in order to pass the message along. So please, next time, repeat yourself and make sure you're clear on voice mail or I won't call you back, and definitely won't even try.

Oh, and don't assume I know you immediately. I don't always remember who someone is right off the bat, even when it's my own family. Leaving me a message that basically says "It's me" guarantees a quick delete.

In fact, don't leave any voice mail at all. Just don't talk to me.

Glad we could clear that up.


I love you, schmoopie.

My wife and I get pretty lovey dovey, even after 3.5 years of marriage. We say lots of really sappy things to each other, myself more than her. We sometimes get teased, and other times we actually get some criticism for it. I'm not that bothered by it. She's my schmoopie, and I'm crazy about her. :) I'm actually grinning as I type this.

Maybe you don't know me that well, maybe you just happened upon this blog and you're here reading. (I'm looking at you, mister 10+ visits from somewhere in Saudi Arabia.) My family, my mother especially, likes to tease me by asking my wife 'How do you put up with him?' Frankly, I echo the question entirely. To say I'm a handful is an understatement. There are only a few women (well, people) that don't get fed up with me after awhile. I know I've got that threshold, and I try to throttle the 'me-ness' if I can tell I'm playing on someone's nerves, but I don't believe that this kind of holding back should be necessary in marriage. You should be you-- the best you. The you that knows you've got problems and you're trying to work on them but you're still gonna be you with all your faults and shortcomings, as well as all your strengths and endearing qualities. Anyway.

I don't balance out. :) To say I have a few quirks is an understatement. To have someone like Mrs. Sixline put up with me the way she does and love me despite is very surprising, given the words of a Latter-day prophet (1):
While marriage is difficult, and discordant and frustrated marriages are common, yet real, lasting happiness is possible, and marriage can be, more an exultant ecstasy than the human mind can conceive. This is within the reach of every couple, every person. “Soul mates” are fiction and an illusion; and while every young man and young woman will seek with all diligence and prayerfulness to find a mate with whom life can be most compatible and beautiful, yet it is certain that almost any good man and any good woman can have happiness and a successful marriage if both are willing to pay the price.

If there's no such thing as soulmates, then I guess I really do have one in a million. No one else could love me and put with me the way she does. So if you know me, or you spend time around me, and I get lovey-dovey on you with her, it's only because I'm utterly ecstatic that anyone can stand my presence for more than ten minutes, let alone eternity, and I just want to shower her with love, affection, and attention.

I love you, schmoopie. :)

(1) Spencer W. Kimball, “Oneness in Marriage,” Ensign, Mar. 1977, 3


thicker than water

We always do the worst to those we love. I don't think this is intentional. I think it's a by-product of that closeness. A nobody on the street can stab me in my weakest spots and I'd be fine because I can always tell myself 'What does he know?' But the close ones know you. They're very aware of your weakness.

I've been really unfair to my little brother. I think about this a lot. I feel like I failed him. He's a few years younger than me, both of us in our early 20s, and I thought that I could help him out one summer by taking him to do a door-to-door sales bit. I thought I could teach him some of my tricks, help him establish confidence, work experience, and the character building that comes from working hard. But it was harder than I thought... He didn't get along with the guys in the office. They thought he was weird, in a looking down your nose sort of way. No one wanted to work with him.

I'll admit, my brother's got his weirdness (I think our whole family does...) but he's a good kid. He just hasn't ever been in a non-sheltered environment away from family. No roommates, no college, no mission, nothing. Always been at home. He tries to be funny and sometimes misses (remind you of anyone you know?) so he put himself out there and it just didn't fly. And I didn't stick up for him. I was especially bad about bashing him with another guy because I wanted the other guy to like me. I didn't want to work with my little brother-- I wanted to work with the successful guys. I was stupid. I was wrong. I feel horrible about it, but I don't want to hurt my little brother by telling him what happened. I just wished I would have stood up for him, something I'm resolved to do now. I wish I didn't see him as an embarrassment.

Not only did I fail him in that respect, but since summer sales was a Failure for me(note the capital 'F'), it was doubly so for him. I had no confidence in him, so I couldn't teach him that. He didn't make any money, so that was a failure. He went home early, which is a major no-no in summer sales... Man. If I would have just carried him like I meant to, I think he'd have done better. I'm ashamed of what I did, and I hate that.


Ansel Adams wannabe

These are a few of my first shots at digital photography. (No Ben, not trying to copy you. :) )

Positive comments only, please.


The Talk

I had the beginnings of 'The Talk' with the in-laws. My mother and father in law really are good people. Our familial cultures clash at times, but, to be fair, they are loving people who want to have a healthy relationship with me. I think all the bad PR I give my in-laws really stems from only two or three individuals. Not really fair to judge the rest of them based on that.

I basically told them that it feels like I'm always the bad guy. I have a tendency to say 'rude' things (The 'R' word... now that's a post for another day...) and they have a tendency to be upset at rude things. Put two and two together and wham-o. Of course, a lot of this happens after the fact. I say something, or react a certain way, and I find out much later, often a day or so later, that I upset someone. Usually the informant is my wife, so some of the feelings are lost in translation to begin with. This is no fault of Mrs. Sixline, this just plain happens. Plus she normally catches the upset individual two seconds after the fact, and after a little perspective is added, the upset indivdual isn't nearly as upset as they once were.


It was conceded that I will be me. Granted, I won't try to upset anyone, but if I do, then we just all need to get over it. I'm curious to see how this rolls out. I'm not going to spend any more time bashing them, something I shouldn't do regardless, and I'm just not gonna be upset if I piss someone off. This is going to take a lot of patience on my part, because contrary to their belief, it will happen, and I'm going to need to have the attitude of 'Well... I'm me. Get over it.' (Unless of course I actually merit blame for the offense, in which case I'll own up and apologize.)

Don't like it? Get over it.

Oh, and Happy Veteran's Day. Kings among men.


melancholy and the infinite sadness

I haven't felt like this since I was in high school.

More appropriately, I haven't felt like this since I was an awkward teenager who was trying to figure out who he was, which happened to correspond to the time I was in high school.

But you know, this kind of self pitying dross is exactly the kind of toxic self-loathing I wanted to avoid in blogging. I guess I was due for one of these posts. There's no real point to it, it's just the outward expression of frustration I feel for not being able to communicate what's going on. I guess it's no mystery why little children scream and cry; it's the only way they can communicate how they're feeling.

But screaming and crying isn't the mature, adult thing to do. We blog.


but I don't wanna...

Here I am again.

Still got tons of stuff to do, and yet I feel un-motivated. I've been coasting... I just want it to be over. I can close my eyes and see the day when the Spectrum is filled with screaming fans of mine as they hand me my sheepskin... I raise my arms in triumph to the deafening roar from the stands... The President-- no, President Hinckley-- emerges from the row of honored guests to tell me that I'm the best most wonderfullest person in the world... Employers are pushing each other over and fencing with fountain pens to see which engineering firm I'll work for... My wife tells me she's pregnant... And then I slip on the toilet seat, hit my head on the sink and come up with the idea for the flux capacitor, invent a time machine, go into the future and come back with the cure for cancer and invest the profits and retire to a beautiful house, boat, jetski, and reef tank up in Bear Lake...

Yep... Not gonna happen without motivation. But I got none. So instead I close my eyes and imagine us living in a card board box at the corner of 4th and Main. That's why I prefer the other daydream.




Same story, different day. At least that's the clean version of the expression.

Not much is going on here. Mrs. Sixline has been sick. Although I've been a bit off myself (think I'm adjusting to the weather) I feel pretty good. Lucky me, I don't get sick. At least not that often. I seem to get one cold/fever a year, and usually when I do feel nasty I just sleep it off. In a day or so I'm always doing much better.

On a serious note, and this probably won't make sense-- don't worry if it doesn't. I'm giving as much detail as I'm comfortable with. I hate knowing I'm going to do something, something I don't want to do, and doing it anyway. It causes so much frustration the second the act is over. 'What was I thinking?! How could I be so stupid?' The outsider says 'So just stop.' I wish it were that simple. Sometimes it's like I've programmed myself through previous choices and when I'm triggered I can't really help it-- not that I'm disavowing all accountability in the matter, the choices I made in the past set up the pattern that happens now and I'm accountable for them. I think this is why I believe we're only free to choose the right. Choosing wrong limits your ability to stop doing that wrong. Addiction sucks.