Ninja Points
Earlier today, I gave Sabrina points for her impressive AP Biology recall abilities. That was a mistake. She deserved more.
That brings me to the ancient tradition of bestowing Ninja Points. Ninja Points can never be bought or sold, but may only be earned and bestowed. Whenever somebody says or does something sufficiently impressive, clever, funny, intelligent, insightful, or ballsy (or the female equivalent thereof)—something of blinding brilliance—you may bestow Ninja Points upon them. One is often enough, but some occasions may necessitate two, three, or in some cases, as many as five ninja points.
Ninja Points can be redeemed by using your special ninja abilities—hang from the ceiling, bounce off walls, move with blinding speed, disappear into the shadows, or even call upon mystical fire to smite your enemies.
Ninja Points: know them, bestow them, use them. Sabrina, I hereby honor you with two Ninja Points.
The lab is beginning to look like the day after Christmas. There are two new grad students in the lab (including me) and one new post doc. They've both gotten new computers and monitors, and my two beautiful hunks of aluminum (1, 2) are due to ship on Friday. We had an IBM ThinkPad show up today (for general lab use) along with an accompanying Sony 20" LCD, and a PowerBook is on the way as well.
I'm experiencing the joys of debugging—I've got two scripts to analyze some data, and the results they produce are inconsistent, so I get to stare at two windows full of small text for hours on end, until I realize, in a flash of brilliance, "Hey! There should be a semicolon there!" Semicolons: the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.
I'm also working on this fall's upcoming qualifying exam. On September 1, I have to submit three one page abstracts of proposals for novel research, unrelated to the work I do in lab. My committee will pick one, and I will have until mid-October to turn it into a full NIH-style grant proposal, which I'll have to deffend orally, and then never think about again.
I guess it would make too much sense to, say, give me time to get an actual paper published which would advance my scientific career. Way too much sense.
That brings me to the ancient tradition of bestowing Ninja Points. Ninja Points can never be bought or sold, but may only be earned and bestowed. Whenever somebody says or does something sufficiently impressive, clever, funny, intelligent, insightful, or ballsy (or the female equivalent thereof)—something of blinding brilliance—you may bestow Ninja Points upon them. One is often enough, but some occasions may necessitate two, three, or in some cases, as many as five ninja points.
Ninja Points can be redeemed by using your special ninja abilities—hang from the ceiling, bounce off walls, move with blinding speed, disappear into the shadows, or even call upon mystical fire to smite your enemies.
Ninja Points: know them, bestow them, use them. Sabrina, I hereby honor you with two Ninja Points.
The lab is beginning to look like the day after Christmas. There are two new grad students in the lab (including me) and one new post doc. They've both gotten new computers and monitors, and my two beautiful hunks of aluminum (1, 2) are due to ship on Friday. We had an IBM ThinkPad show up today (for general lab use) along with an accompanying Sony 20" LCD, and a PowerBook is on the way as well.
I'm experiencing the joys of debugging—I've got two scripts to analyze some data, and the results they produce are inconsistent, so I get to stare at two windows full of small text for hours on end, until I realize, in a flash of brilliance, "Hey! There should be a semicolon there!" Semicolons: the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.
I'm also working on this fall's upcoming qualifying exam. On September 1, I have to submit three one page abstracts of proposals for novel research, unrelated to the work I do in lab. My committee will pick one, and I will have until mid-October to turn it into a full NIH-style grant proposal, which I'll have to deffend orally, and then never think about again.
I guess it would make too much sense to, say, give me time to get an actual paper published which would advance my scientific career. Way too much sense.
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 6:22 PM
