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Arts & Entertainment, Music

In memory of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith

by Kevin Reynolds on

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Mark E. Smith, who died Jan. 24, seemed somewhat immortal in a way that few artists can. As frontman of The Fall, in his 40-year career, Smith and his band released some 30 studio albums and just as many live albums, compilations, and collections of rarities.

Despite his ailing health, Smith sounds as youthful on The Fall’s last album, New Facts Emerge, as he did at any point in his inimitable career. Smith’s youthful intensity and prolific work ethic defined The Fall, almost more so than the music itself. Sure, The Fall are far from the only band to release a lot of albums. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard released 5 albums in 2017 alone; Gucci Mane somehow managed to export a seemingly endless supply of vocal tracks during his 2016 prison stint. What differentiates The Fall from their equally industrious peers, however, is the fact that they didn’t merely release a lot of good albums, but that their albums manage to sound, in the words of John Peel, “always different, but always the same.”

With a voice as distinct as Smith’s, it was impossible for the band to cut a record and not have it sound like The Fall. While the band’s identity is impossible to hide from those who know them, they don’t ever sound like The Fall of last year.

Smith was to The Fall what Jeff Tweedy is to Wilco, or Nick Cave is to the Bad Seeds. The Fall were essentially a collaborative solo project, a vehicle for presenting Smith’s caustic lyrics and madcap ideas in likely a more palatable format than what the vocalist could have made on his own.

The Fall are less of a band and more of an ever-shifting collective. While its nucleus has remained intact, the group has employed 66 members other than Smith throughout its lengthy existence. This influx of new ideas and members, coupled with Smith’s endless lyrical creativity, kept The Fall on their lively trajectory.  

Despite the fast turnover rate of their members, Smith’s lyrics and outlook rarely wavered. To their end, The Fall were always unpredictable, always funny, and always very British. Take my favorite Smith lyric, from the song, “Frightened,” featured on their first proper album, Live at the Witch Trials. In a thick Mancunian accent, Smith sing-songs, “I’m better than them, and I think I’m the best.” Smith never reveals to whom the “them” refers, but it is his attitude here that counts. Such a proclamation is brazen from such an untested artist, especially when one considers The Fall’s contemporaries. Smith belongs to one of the most legendary generations in recent music history, a golden age that includes the Talking Heads, The Cure, and Joy Division. Despite the band’s legendarily wreckless antics, such as re-arranging songs so as to make them purposefully incomprehensible, arriving on stage too intoxicated to perform, and shutting the sound off on various instruments mid-concert, The Fall somehow managed to outlive their more successful counterparts.

The Fall’s was not a fat, content old age. The band never lost their edge, remaining the cocky innovators they were at their inception—angry, funny, and cynical right up to the very end. In that sense, Mark E. Smith and The Fall truly were better than the others, and quite possibly the best band in their class.   

 

Off the Board, Opinion

When AI slips between the sheets

by Ayanna De Graff on

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Last week, I finally watched the 2015 sci-fi and artificial intelligence (AI)-themed movie, Ex Machina. Providing viewers with an in-depth look at the possibilities of AI in a not-so-far future, the film centres around the relationship between a young programmer named Caleb and a seductive robot, Ava. Caleb is mandated to administer the “Turing test”—essentially testing whether Ava can fool a human into thinking that she is not a machine. Aside from Ava’s superior looks and intelligence, and Caleb’s fatal attraction to both, the movie highlights an inevitable issue in the AI debate—the fine line between artificial intelligence and human intelligence, and what happens when it is blurred.

While most researchers seem confident in the possibility of turning a machine into a human, the question as to how to keep humans from turning into machines doesn’t seem to have crossed many minds. Yet, increasingly, the virtual, emotionally-detached, efficiency-driven way of machines has come to govern our society and relationships. Often, this is more harmful than helpful.

In the incessant technological race to simulate humans, AI and human-looking androids have also taken a new, darker purpose as sex robots. These are app-operated machines with the outward physique of a human, whose ultimate goal is not to beat you at chess, but to please you in bed. With a customizable appearance, they can go on for hours. They may very well be the ideal sexual partner for the aloof, feelings-apprehensive, self-centered lover of the 21st century.

This use of AI most likely—and understandably—makes many uncomfortable. The thought of a robot as a sexual partner to a human seems unnatural, awkward, and perhaps even unethical. But, while treating an AI creation as just a physical shell to satisfy our most lustful desires sounds undesirably creepy, it simultaneously reflects how some of us have come to treat our most intimate relationships.

In today’s “hookup culture,” which allows only virtual emotional contact and restricted physical interaction, and where it seems we sometimes meet one another with the sole purpose of fulfilling biological impulses, the parallel to sex robots is not so far-fetched. In our quest to remove ourselves from emotional attachments, we’ve come to treat each other like robots in our intimate interactions. The online dating game exacerbates this trend; from apps, to social media, to Craigslist ads, it’s never been easier to meet people without any real-world contact, and never truly engage with them. It’s also never been easier to dehumanize the person on the other side of the phone screen: From a specific body type, hair or eye colour, ethnicity, to height, we choose and judge the person as if they’re not real. Akin to a virtual machine, the being on the other end is mainly there to fulfill an idealized version of our desires.

In our quest to remove ourselves from emotional attachments, we’ve come to treat each other like robots in our intimate interactions.

It is no surprise, then, that in Ex Machina, Ava eventually passes the test, and Caleb comes to believe that the AI does love him, subsequently falling for her. Even today, sexbots on virtual chat websites are hardly anything worth raising an eyebrow over; fake, machine-generated dating profiles are ubiquitous, because increasingly they’re not so different from our human interactions.

Perhaps it’s the machines that have become a lot like us: They have emotional intelligence, can take on our physical form, and may very soon become smarter than us. But, it’s not far-fetched to think that it’s our interactions—which are often detached and surface-level—that truly make AI objects seem so human. If we treat each other like robots, it’s no wonder that we then struggle to tell both apart.

Google’s Director of Engineering Ray Kurzweil has predicted that in 2029 computers will reach human-level intelligence. Ironically, tech entrepreneur Elon Musk has argued that to save humanity from irrelevance, humans should be turned into cyborgs, so that they can become the superior machine of the two.

The advancement of AI and the automation of our society are inevitable and have already begun. Soon, human-looking machines will be walking among us, which is why it’s all the more important to remember that we are humans—not machines—and must treat each other as such.

 

Ayanna De Graff is a U3 Economics and Statistics student at McGill and copy editor at the Tribune. Her name means “sunny flower” in Swahili.

 

@mcgilltribop | [email protected]
Art, Arts & Entertainment

FAC’s latest iteration of Nuit Blanche explores reiteration

by Sophie Panzer on

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Those who braved the trek across a snowy campus on Feb. 1 were rewarded with an evening of inspiring student artwork. The McGill Fine Arts Council (FAC) hosted its annual Nuit Blanche exhibition in the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) building. Nuit Blanche featured McGill-based artists and fine arts clubs, including organizations devoted to dance, creative writing, visual art, theatre, and music. This year’s theme “Itero,” which translates roughly to “Reiteration,” was designed to question the role of repetition in the creation of art.  The event questions whether there’s such a thing as a truly original idea, or if all art is just a reimagination of its predecessors.

As most student artists at McGill are painfully aware, the university offers very few academic opportunities for creative expression—there are no studio arts courses, and ENGL 364, the one creative writing course offered through the English department, is usually capped at 15 students. However, the variety of talent displayed at Nuit Blanche shows that there are plenty of clubs and student groups that can provide artistic inspiration and community instead.

The McGill Students’ Visual Arts Society and the Fridge Door Gallery both featured visual art exhibitions at Nuit Blanche. Visitors were greeted with vibrant shapes and colours featured in larger works mounted on the walls, and encountered more delicate pieces such as small sculptures and sketches while perusing the tables. Several artists displayed sketchbooks or diaries that contained both polished and in-progress work, offering audiences an in-depth look at their creative process. In her piece “Sketchbook,” Leah Smith, U3 Sociology and Philosophy, offered viewers a glimpse of her creative inspiration through collages featuring images of women against backdrops of brightly coloured magazine advertisements. Several tables in the SSMU ballroom were covered by blank paper so that visitors could doodle when inspiration struck.

There was also a section devoted solely to student photography. This exhibition featured the McGill University Photography Students Society (MUPSS) as well as the independently curated work of Nina Chabel, U2 Art History and English Literature, and Madeline Kinney, U3 Cultural Studies. Chabel’s series “Tourists” featured visitors at a museum in St. Petersburg, Russia, snapping pictures on their phones, asking audience members to reflect on the extent to which they view the world through a screen. Chabel also had other photos of St. Petersburg featured in the Fridge Door Gallery section. These shots featured a soft colour palette and vintage vehicles, making viewers feel as though they were gazing at a reiteration of the past.

In addition to visual artwork, the evening featured several performing artists. There were three McGill dance groups in attendance. The members of Alegria performed contemporary ballet, Inertia focused on modern dance, and Mosaica performed a mix of jazz, contemporary, ballet, hip-hop, and tap. Each group danced against the backdrop of a slideshow of artwork featured in F WORD, a Montreal-based feminist zine and collective. The SSMU ballroom also held performances by Montreal-based folk artists Vikki Gilmore,  Clyde Veer, and Shit Whitman, as well as indie rock artists Lara Antebi and Juan Egana.

Editors from the literary magazines The Veg  and Scrivener Creative Review  sold back issues of their publications, which feature work from the McGill and Montreal community.

Much of the artwork on display did not strictly adhere to the theme “Reiteration.” However, viewers could still be amazed at the devotion and talent of the artists represented at Nuit Blanche. The artists’ works offered a view of McGill student life that is not always visible but always worth seeing.

McGill, Montreal, News

Ceremony commemorates held on the anniversary of Quebec City mosque attack

by Victoria Flaherty on

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On Jan. 29, several campus groups held a ceremony of remembrance to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the 2017 attack on the Centre Culturel Islamique du Québec, one of the largest mosques in Quebec City. Members of the McGill community and the public gathered in the atrium of the Lorne M. Trottier Building to honour the six men killed and 19 injured when Alexandre Bissonnette opened fire during a time of prayer in what was labelled a terrorist attack.

The ceremony was hosted by the McGill Muslim Students’ Association (MSA), the Institute for Islamic Studies, the Social Equity and Diversity Education Office (SEDE), and the Joint Board-Senate Committee on Equity.

In an interview with The McGill Tribune, Shanice Yarde, equity educational advisor at SEDE, stressed the importance of creating a safe space for those impacted by racial and religious violence at McGill.

“It’s incredibly important to [console] Muslim students on and off campus who are directly impacted by this,” Yarde said. “[The shooting] was horrific, and a year later the impacts are still horrific, so we have to still be in conversation critiquing islamophobia.”

Six members of the Montreal and McGill community took turns speaking to condemn racism, emphasize the power of unity, and promote tolerance. After calling for attendees to observe a minute of silence, Angela Campbell, associate provost (Equity and Academic Policies), reminded the crowd of the massacre’s widespread impact.

“This tragedy shook our communities, our province, and our country,” Campbell said.

Next to speak was Sue Montgomery, mayor of Cote-des-Neiges/Notre-Dame-de-Grace. She addressed the prevalence of islamophobia in Quebec and urged attendees to interfere when witnessing racism or harassment. She also announced that the city council is working toward a declaration condemning islamophobia.

“Hatred comes from a very dark place,” Montgomery said. “Recognizing that [islamophobia] does exist is imperative if we’re going to change anything in this province.

Pasha M. Khan, assistant professor at the Institute of Islamic Studies at McGill, took the podium next, and stressed how important it was to feel both pain and power in memory.  

“We all have power, in whatever ways,” Khan said. “But when do we know that we have power? When do we feel that we have power? It’s when we’re putting it to use, exercising power, giving other people power or it’s when other people are giving power to me.”

Student activists Salma Youssef, U3 Science, and Nahal Siraj Fansia, U3 Nursing, also spoke at the ceremony, urging others to practice peace, tolerance, and social awareness.

“When we practice respect and acceptance, two values emphasized by all religions, we eliminate the possibility of intolerance, the inability to understand differences of opinion,” Youssef said. “As we’ve come to learn, ignorance breeds fear, fear breeds hate, and hate breeds violence. This day should be an active reminder of the state of our country. It isn’t enough to hope for change. We must be the ones to continue to encourage tolerance and acceptance, and it starts with our own fortitude.”

Ehab Lotayef, activist and IT manager at McGill, concluded the ceremony by announcing McGill’s new efforts to commemorate the massacre and prevent similar incidents. The university will plant a tree on campus in memory of the victims and the event. In addition, the creation of a new merit-based financial award is underway to subsidize educational expenses for students who promote the inclusion of Muslim members of the McGill community.

In an interview with the Tribune, attendee Sara Hany, U1 Engineering, expressed the shock that reverberated through the nation following the attack.

“[Canada]’s supposed to be a peaceful country, so I felt sad that the harmony started to fade,” Hany said. “It’s important to remember [the shooting] because terrorism has no religion.”

Science & Technology

Mind your brain: Improving concussion care

by Gwenyth Wren on

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On Jan. 30, Concussion MTL hosted “Looking Ahead: Improving Concussion Care,” a speaker series focused on concussion prevention, care, and rehabilitation.

The CDC defines concussions as traumatic brain injuries caused by a blow to the head, or by a hit to the body that causes the brain to twist or make contact with the skull. Deborah Friedman, assistant professor in the Department of Pediatric Surgery at McGill and director of trauma at the Montreal Children’s Hospital, explained the difficulties of caring for a patient with a concussion.

“Concussions by nature all have different trajectories,” Friedman said. “What works for one patient may not work for another. Different cases are all individualized.”

Not only are cases difficult to treat because of their individualistic nature, but the healing process for a concussed individual is not linear, nor is it universal. Nevertheless, there is a set of guidelines that patients with a concussion should follow.

“The first 48 hours are a critical healing period,” Friedman said. “During those 2 days, a person should sleep [and] stay away from screens and stimulus. However, after that it’s best to slowly integrate [non]-intensive cardio and attempt to return to work and school without pushing yourself.”

Unfortunately, there is no test that can rate the severity of a concussion with 100 per cent accuracy, or ensure a quick recovery. CT scans and MRIs won’t show anything unless the patient is experiencing a brain bleed.  

Dr. Gordon Bloom, professor of sport psychology at McGill, explained why this uncertainty presents such a barrier in the recovery process and contributes to the stigma related to concussions.

“With most injuries, doctors and patients alike understand how to get to from point A [the injury] to the finish line, [but] that’s not the case with concussions,” Bloom said. “Doctors can’t give you an exact timeline. Due to this, we are seeing athletes and students alike return to sport, work, or school too early because of a fear of what they are going to miss.”

While this may address the cognitive and physical aspects of concussions, there is another important, often neglected, factor. Hilary Duncan, a clinical psychologist with Blake Psychology, addressed the emotional aspect of the injury: A side of concussion care that receives little attention.

“We see two major things when patients are recovering: Guilt and doubt,” Duncan said. “They always question whether they are babying themselves. The increasing awareness of concussions is very good but we are trailing behind in the mental health-related stuff.”

Recovering from a concussion can be difficult, and a long road if the patient doesn’t follow through on the initial steps to recovery. Friedman has patients who tell her that they wish they could have suffered from a broken bone, or a more obvious injury that other people would believe and accomodate for. This is a recurring theme in concussion recovery. As an otherwise-invisible injury, it is difficult for a concussed individual to get support for their physical and emotional pain, in turn making it less likely for them to seek accommodations.  

The field of concussion research is booming, but preventative strategies are falling short. As frequent diagnoses of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE)—a degenerative brain disease resulting from repetitive trauma—continue to permeate the mainstream media, doctors and teachers are brought up to speed on how to best treat concussions. Experts working in concussion care and prevention should focus on teaching coaches, parents, and students how best to mitigate them.

Throughout the panel, the speakers unanimously suggested that spreading awareness and implementing measures to avoid head trauma such as practicing non-contact sports and wearing helmets is a good start, but it’s not enough. Society needs to be proactive, not reactive.

“The concussion epidemic now [is as dangerous as] the smoking epidemic,” Bloom said. “The research isn’t out yet so people don’t want to believe it, [but] people are going to look back and realized they missed out.”

Student Life

Life After Four Loko: Students share mixed feelings over the new provincial drink recall

by Gabriela McGuinty on

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It was late August. The time was 7 a.m. The occasion was Beach Day. As I entered a quaint dépanneur in the Milton-Parc neighbourhood to stock up on alcohol before heading to the bus, I was immediately struck by the brightly coloured cans neatly aligned in a fridge in the center of the small shop. The flashy green, pink, blue, and yellow cans beckoned to me from across the room. Having never actually seen—much less consumed—one before, I would soon learn that these cans held the infamous Four Loko, an alcoholic drink that divides partiers into two camps: Die-hard fans and huge critics.

But my journey with Four Loko would soon be over. Four months later, on Dec. 6, 2017, the Quebec government alongside Embouteillages Solar, the drink’s Quebec manufacturer, decided to pull Four Loko from shelves in deps and grocery stores as it contains a substance that can only legally be sold at the Société des alcools du Québec (SAQ).  

“Embouteillage Solar announces the recall of Blue Spike Beverage products from grocery store shelves for the reason that these products contain ethyl alcohol rather than malt fermentation alcohol,” Louis Aucoin, Communication strategist at TESLA RP, a Montreal-based public relations firm, stated in the official recall. “The substitution of these two ingredients has no effect on the alcohol content or the quality of the products. However, the use of ethyl alcohol does not comply with the regulation that only beer, cider, wine or artisanal products may be marketed at food retailers.”*

Whether you’re a first or fourth-year McGill student, it is hard to imagine life post-Four Loko. These drinks overtook pre-ing culture and seemed to have become a staple purchase for nights out. Its 11.9 per cent alcohol content is only one of the many reasons the drink is so popular among students. Four Loko is cost-efficient, priced at around $4, and lasts most consumers all night, meaning one can carry it around with more security than a six-pack.

In addressing the controversy of the recall, some McGill students expressed gratitude for its promotion of healthier drinking habits—Four Loko and other caffeinated alcoholic drinks were once known to pose a risk of heart irregularities, until they were reformulated in 2010.

“It’s honestly for the benefit of everyone,” Mathilde Hourticq, U1 Arts, said. “Four Lokos are disgusting, there are so many tastier ways to get drunk.”

Other students hold drastically different opinions on the banning of Four Loko. Some reminisce about the impact these sugary drinks have had on their most special memories.

“Last time I was happy, I was drinking Four Loko,” Joe Duva, U1 Arts said. “It was the winter of 2015, truly one of the most bitter cold winters I’ve lived through. I had just dug out my elderly neighbour, Mrs. Dorothy, from 8 feet of snow, and was shivering with frostbite in front of a roaring fire I had prepared for myself. I thought I would die that day, but then my girlfriend handed me a glass of Four Loko, and, for a brief moment, I was content. I miss those days. People felt more real.”

Many loyal fans even take the Four Loko ban as a personal attack. For some, the disappearance of Four Loko seemed like saying goodbye to an old friend. To others, it felt like the end of a great love affair.

“Last night I dreamt that I was drinking a Four Loko, a crisp grape flavoured one,” Olivia Berkowitz, U1 Arts, said. “Halfway through a sip I was rudely awoken by my alarm. I don’t want to wake up to a world with no Four Lokos.”

As students cope with the loss of an old companion, the question remains: What drink to turn to next? For now, we remain in a time of mourning and grief, vowing to never forget our beloved beverage.

“There is no drink more ready to get a party going,” Matthew Barreto, U0 Arts, said.“Nothing more iconic and cheap to kick off a night with friends. Nothing that can make a person happier than their first sip of the drink that makes or breaks your night. The Four Loko. The drink of Montreal. The life blood of the party. May the drink truly rest in peace.”

 

* This quote has been translated from French.

Commentary, Opinion

Divestment comes at a price to students

by Gabriel Rincon on

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At the Dec. 12 McGill University Board of Governors (BoG) meeting, members of Divest McGill protested against a recent revision to the Committee to Advise on Matters of Social Responsibility’s (CAMSR) mandate. The policy change would prohibit the University from using the Endowment Fund to further specific social or political causes. CAMSR’s original purpose is to help fulfill the ethical and social responsibility clause of McGill’s Investment Policy for its endowment. Divest McGill’s aim is for McGill to divest those funds from fossil fuels. However, as the revision reflects, the purpose of the Endowment Fund as a whole is not to advance a particular social goal. While Divest McGill’s goal of fighting climate change by using the endowment fund might achieve symbolic benefit, this is outweighed by the financial costs and trade-offs.

The actual function of the Endowment Fund is to maintain the solvency of the various donations given to the University. According to the Investment Policy, a vast majority of these funds are already “externally restricted,” meaning that their use is earmarked for scholarships or other purposes; McGill merely invests the funds on behalf of the donor and then oversees the proper use of the funds. Seeing as it’s not truly McGill’s money, and that most of the money has already been assigned a purpose, it would be irresponsible for McGill to do anything with the funds other than ensure their continued solvency and growth.

That appears to be what the University is doing. McGill’s Investment Policy delineates asset classes in which the University can invest, and specifies an asset mix—the portions of the fund that can be invested in each asset. The asset mix shows a clear preference for diversification and safe investments. Assuming that the University invests optimally, it is achieving the highest possible return given its liquidity and risk preferences.

Changing McGill’s Endowment Fund asset composition to divest from fossil fuel companies would be costly. Divesting would mean lower returns at greater risk, which could jeopardize various forms of scholarship and library funding. Divest McGill’s demands to liquidate all investments in fossil fuel firms don’t justify the costs of such a move, as they provide little to no concrete benefit.

If Divest McGill is serious about fighting climate change, there are practical steps it can encourage the University to take without compromising the financial health of the Endowment Fund.

        Liquidating the University’s holdings in an oil firm does no tangible harm to the firm, since McGill’s Endowment is certainly not large enough to prompt a significant drop in the share price or cause market panic. By buying already-issued equities, McGill is not providing the fossil fuel companies, or any company, with new or significant funding. The only way McGill could directly benefit a fossil fuel company and meaningfully contribute to climate change would be to buy a bond or commercial paper directly from the issuing oil company, a much closer business relationship than simply holding shares. Whether or not McGill presently does this is unclear. Nonetheless, the tangible harm that would be inflicted on oil companies by the University selling their shares is minimal, beyond a symbolic stance against climate change. Divesting from fossil fuel companies also ignores that firms like ExxonMobil are industry leaders in clean energy innovation.

Meanwhile, taking this symbolic stance against fossil fuels would mean less money for scholarships, libraries, and other on-campus resources and initiatives that the endowment reserves funds for.

        If Divest McGill is serious about fighting climate change, there are practical steps it can encourage the University to take without compromising the financial health of the Endowment Fund. For example, Divest could construct an environmentally-conscious investment portfolio that meets the asset mix requirements and liquidity preferences of the fund with the same projected return, and propose it to the Investment Office. Alternatively, Divest McGill could raise money to create a fund specifically for the advancement of environmental research at McGill.

        There are trade-offs to pursuing a specific social mission. Certainly, helping low-income students pay for university and rewarding hard work through merit scholarships are worthy goals as well, with clear benefits. In contrast, Divest’s demand likely comes with significant costs that a symbolic stance cannot fix.            

 

Gabriel is a U2 Economics student at McGill. He loves cooking and sharing his food with his friends and family.

 

@mcgilltribop | [email protected]
Laughing Matters, Opinion

The agonies of email etiquette and prof dudes

by Isaac Berman on

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Dear Professor Buddle,

You recently shared a rather condescending blurb about how McGill students should learn email etiquette, insinuating that most students do not put the correct amount of effort into the vital student-professor communication medium. I challenge this assumption. I’m not sure who originally wrote, “Hey Prof Dude,” but I can tell you from experience that the process of emailing a professor is anything but casual. It is a highly-involved inner struggle of self-loathing versus self-worth, of knowledge of basic grammar versus knowledge of email conventions—requiring pure mental fortitude. For me, that battle usually goes something like this.

First comes the agony of choosing an appropriate salutation:

“Hi Prof –“

Then I ask myself if they are even a professor. I Google them; their LinkedIn says, “Course Lecturer.”  This means a simple “Dr.” will suffice. A tinge of sadness washes over me, as I lament that this person is not yet able to put a simple “Associate Professor” title on their LinkedIn Profile, despite having spent the entirety of their 20s—and a good portion of their 30s—torturing themselves to become an expert on a topic so specific that they only have three peer references on JStor. I quickly remember that my own LinkedIn profile not only has an endorsement from my mom for my Microsoft Office skills, but also paragraphs of bullshit about how being a camp counsellor helps me “work as a member of a team” and prepares me to “multitask in a fast-paced environment.” My pity for this “Dr.” fades, and rapidly I return to self-loathing.

“Hi Dr. –”

Now comes the friendly greeting:

It’s Thursday, so I can’t say, “I hope you had a good week,” because that implies I don’t count Friday as a part of the week, and I can’t have Dr. _____, parent of two beautiful children, —“Gabby” and “Frederic” (I also find the “About Me” section of their academic site)—thinking that I don’t do work on Fridays.

“I hope you are doing well, and enjoying the nice weather we’ve been having.”

No good—it’s -20 degrees, and the snow resembles the set of a Tim Burton movie.

“I hope you are doing well.”

Next, the informational content of the email must be tasteful and not too forthright:

“I am writing to inform you that I will not be able to attend the lecture tomorrow as I have fallen ill.”

God, no one has said “fallen ill” since the Spanish flu. Why does typing in Outlook automatically make me write like I’m in an episode of The Crown? Screw it, I’m allowed to let my hair down every now and then.

“I am writing to inform you that I will not be able to attend the lecture tomorrow because I am sick.”

A wave of panic rushes over me as I realize that I didn’t have my privacy settings turned on when I stalked my course lecturer on LinkedIn. They will see that I stalked them, will judge me fiercely and aggressively, and will never respond to my future email asking for a grad school reference. Never mind the fact that the probable reason they won’t respond is because my entitled ass never once talked to them in person during their lecture of 30 students.

“Thank you in advance for your understanding, and please let me know if there is anything I can do to make up for the content that I will be missing.”

Thanking in advance is pretty presumptuous—who am I to assume that they will understand? Maybe they won’t understand at all and will promptly deduct a percentage point from my participation grade. Scratch the “thank you.”

Finally, the closing is the final note, so it must be perfect:

“Cheers,  – “

Too casual.

“Sincerely, —”

Too formal.

“Best regards, —”

Just right. I feel like Goldilocks.

After enduring this entire painstaking process, my email is later reciprocated by the course lecturer with a simple:

“K.

Sent from my iPhone.”

So, I ask you Professor Buddle, not to judge all students on the one simpleton who wrote “Hey Prof Dude.” Based on my own enduring struggles, I can only assume that the entire McGill student population is already a neurotic, over-analyzing mess when it comes to using electronic mail with our professors. Most of us wouldn’t be caught dead writing, “Hey Prof Dude.”

Best regards,

 

Isaac Berman

 

Isaac Berman is a U3 Computer Engineering Student. His childhood crush was Jane Goodall and his favourite pastime is filling out online resume forms for job applications.

 

@mcgilltribop | [email protected]
Science & Technology

Unveiling the mystery behind the “Super Blue Blood Moon”

by Jonah Dutz on

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Those who looked up to the sky in the early hours of Jan. 31 were lucky enough to experience a rare trinity of lunar phenomena—the convergence of a “supermoon,” a “blue moon,” and a “blood moon.” The appearance of the ominous sounding “Super Blue Blood Moon” sparked world-wide conversation on its significance and origin.

The term “blue moon” refers to the appearance of a second full moon in a single calendar month. But what is a full moon exactly? Full moons occur when the Earth is located directly between the Sun and the Moon. Since full moons take place every 29.5 days on average, seeing two in one calendar month only happens, well, once in a blue moon. More specifically, they occur once every 2.716 years—about 3 per cent of all full moons.  

According to NASA, when a full moon coincides with its perigee—the point at which the Moon is closest to the Earth in its elliptic orbit—it’s called a “supermoon.” This makes the Moon appear slightly larger and brighter than it does on an average night. However, “Supermoon” isn’t an official term and the criteria for how close the full moon must be to its perigee isn’t well defined. As a result, “supermoons” are actually quite frequent, comprising 25 per cent of all full moons.

The most spectacular feature of the trifecta is its glowing red hue. This odd colouring lends the “blood moon” its nickname. “Blood moons” are lunar eclipses, which occur when a full moon intersects with the Earth’s orbital plane at points called “nodes.” The Earth’s shadow then covers the Moon, blocking all direct light from the Sun. Kelly Lepo, coordinator of the McGill Space Institute, described how this phenomenon gives “blood moons” their red tinge.

“The moon looks red because of the Earth’s atmosphere,” Lepo said. “While the Earth blocks the sunlight that normally hits the Moon, some light passes through the Earth’s atmosphere. The [particles in the] atmosphere scatter blue light [which has shorter wavelengths] and red light passes through, just like what happens during a sunset. In fact, if you were standing on the Moon during a lunar eclipse, you would see all of the sunsets and all of the sunrises on the Earth simultaneously. The Earth would have a red ring around it.”

Conditions on the Earth’s atmosphere during an eclipse can actually alter the shade of red that the Moon takes on. The amount of dust particles, water droplets, or clouds in the atmosphere can all affect how much light is scattered. According to National Geographic, even active volcanoes spewing ash into the atmosphere can trigger deep, blood-red eclipses.

Lepo says that lunar eclipses held special significance in ancient civilizations, as omens that foretold the death of a king.

“Lunar eclipses were considered evil omens in ancient Mesopotamia,” Lepo said. “When an eclipse was likely, a substitute king was appointed to the throne, to make sure that no harm came to the true king. After the eclipse, the substitute king was killed and the true king continued his reign.”

Total lunar eclipses are relatively rare, making up only 5.6 per cent of all full moons.  

Accordingly, “Super Blue Blood Moons” are exceptionally rare. Forbes did the math and found that they make up only 0.042 per cent of all full moons; that corresponds to roughly one every 265 years.

But for those kicking themselves for missing this three-for-one lunar deal, there’s no need. As Forbes kindly points out, the “blue” label is grounded only in human convention, and not in physical phenomena. In fact, moon-gazers can experience a “Super Blood Moon” as early as Jan. 21 of next year—so set those reminders.

Sports

In conversation with Montreal figure skating coach Bruno Marcotte

by Jordan Foy on

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After recent negotiations with its Southern neighbour, North Korea will be sending athletes to the upcoming Winter Olympic Games in PyeongChang, South Korea, beginning Feb. 8. Among the North Korean delegation are two athletes with a special connection to Canada: After spending last summer training with Canadian figure skating coach Bruno Marcotte in Montreal, Ryom Tae-Ok and Kim Ju-Sik will compete in pairs figure skating at the Games.

Ryom and Kim approached Marcotte at the World Championships in Helsinki last year, and asked him if he would be willing to work with them. Marcotte agreed, and the trio spent eight weeks training together.

“I gave them a lot of technical advice, and some strategy advice as far as how to maximize the number of points [received when they] compete,” Marcotte said. “I did a lot of mental work with them, to work on their confidence and make them believe in what they could eventually accomplish.”

During training sessions, Marcotte communicated with Ryom and Kim through a North Korean companion who had figure skating experience and could speak English. Over the course of the eight weeks, Marcotte was impressed by the duo’s work ethic and aptitude for learning.

“Their willingness to [learn meant that] there [were] no boundaries basically,” Marcotte said. “You say what’s in your mind, and they just want to take it in [….] Their work ethic is great, but work ethic is [just] one thing […. Seeing] their mental approach to the correction, […] trying to apply the correction and trying to make the coaches proud by [being] better every day. That was something else.”

When it was announced that the duo would attend the 2018 Olympics, Marcotte was delighted. What’s more, Ryom and Kim qualified based on their own skill—the only athletes from North Korea to earn a spot in the Olympics through the traditional route. Once you strip away the politics surrounding their country, Marcotte explained, you see that they are world-class skaters.

“They deserve to be there,” Marcotte said. “Once people get to know them and see them perform, they’re going to find that they’re two very extremely charismatic skaters. They perform with so much passion and emotion that people will quickly forget where they’re from and why they’re watching them.”

After training with Marcotte, Ryom and Kim will be taking a piece of Canada with them to PyeongChang: For their free skate, the North Korean skaters are performing to the song, “Je ne suis qu’une chanson,” by Ginette Reno, a Quebecois icon.

“[Reno’s] voice is so powerful, as she sings with her heart and her emotion,” Marcotte explained. “It’s exactly the way we [felt that they skated].”

For Marcotte, sharing a little Canadian and Montreal flavour with the North Korean skaters was an extremely rewarding experience.

“I love to share my love for this town I live in, this country that I’m from,” Marcotte said. “Any time that the world can be exposed to a local flavour you know, whether it’s Leonard Cohen or Ginette Reno or whatever […] for me it’s always something special.”

In the face of the media buzz surrounding the two skaters, Marcotte emphasized that, ultimately, his focus was always on the skaters and what he could offer them as a coach.

“My role is […] to help them out to reach their dream, and at the end of the day, […] no matter what the situation or the media attention, that I don’t forget who I am and what is my job,” Marcotte said. “It’s […] to inspire them and [help] them be better athletes.”

Although Marcotte won’t coach Ryom and Kim in PyeongChang, he is still excited to support them in person while they compete.

“They asked me to be there for them in the Games, which I will,” Marcotte said. “I have actually two Canadian pair teams and a South Korean team that I coach, so it’s just a matter of managing everybody. But I will give them all my support any way I can over there.”

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