News Item: Being Alive Today Is Hazardous To The Environment.

erm… not quite… Actual News Item: The Environmental Impact of Googling

It’s getting to the point, these days, where looking at the news
Is utterly depressing—it’s the information blues;
Not merely the economy, although that’s bad enough;
But politics, environment, and scientific stuff—
For instance, just this morning as I had my morning cup
And read the recent news reports I just had Googled up,
I read a Harvard physicist (named Alex Wissner-Gross)
Accusing me of murder (well, not really, but it’s close)!
You see, my carbon footprint (which we know is really bad)
Was growing with each Google search and coffee that I had!
About the same for each of them, at roughly seven grams—
I looked around and saw… I’m part of several other scams!
My clothing uses pesticides, and fertilizers too,
Synthetics from petroleum and other sorts of goo;
My jacket and my shoes were made from something that had died
And someone earns a buck a day to make stuff from its hide
The other night I had a roast, a fine New Zealand lamb,
About as far as possible to ship to where I am—
I’d love to have some swordfish, but there’s hardly any left,
Though still so cheap to buy it that it might as well be theft.
My cellphone, so they tell me, is a cause of global war
For coltan and cassiterite, and other metal ore—
The cost of its convenience isn’t one I have to bear;
The tragedy, of course, all happens way, way over there.
My TV set, my microwave, my fridge, my stove, my car,
Each everyday convenience (all the work’s done from afar)
Is making me my own environmental wrecking crew —
Including, as it happens, this here verse I write for you.
…
I’ll try to shrink my footprint, and report on how it goes:
First, clothing—I’ll run naked through the January snows;
I’ll walk to work—no driving, and my bike is from Brazil,
Not local manufacture, so it hardly fits the bill;
I’ll turn off light, and shut off heat—or hold my class outside,
Reduce our carbon footprint, but increase our civic pride!

I can’t go to the store, because I’m giving up my car
But walking there’s a nightmare—I can’t carry stuff that far.
I’d have it all delivered, but I cannot make the call;
I’m giving up my cellphone, cos of genocide and all.
Besides, when they deliver, it’s this big enormous truck…

No wonder most Americans choose not to give a fuck.

While the ScienceBlogs are cooling their heels, I’ll do a little housekeeping, and tidy up some of the comments from elsewhere. First, a reaction to a pro-Paliban website. The question at hand was–can this website possibly be for real?

Once upon a late December, If correctly I remember,
Waiting for the year’s last ember soon to stop its cheery glow
Clicking through my browser’s pages, while outside the winter rages,
Hoping that the words of sages from the screen would somehow flow
Though the internet’s where words of wisdom rarely ever flow;
Odds are better it’s a Poe.

But the horrors I envision, with each click and each decision,
As my brain endures collision with both web-page and bordeaux
Have my frontal lobe infected, which I thought had been protected
When Obama was elected, not Wasilla’s queen of snow;
I had hoped we’d seen the last of her, and sent her back to snow,
It must surely be a Poe.

etc.

And my last comment of the old year, or maybe my first comment of the new year, I forget.

Around the world, the stroke of midnight seems to cause a riot.
In Cuttlehouse, this year at least, it passes all too quiet.
The Cuttlekids are off with friends, the Cuttlespouse online,
And me? I’m mostly lost in thought (a wee bit lost in wine).
Remembering the year gone by, my best in years (by far!),
And wishing you… the best of years… where e’re it is you are.

Kent Hovind, with not much better to do while behind bars, continues to publish his “dialogs with God”.

A dialog with god or dog
Is oftenest a monologue

The Great State of Oklahoma is attempting to officially dumb down science. Following a suggestion by George Orwell, their new anti-evolution bill is the “Scientific Education and Academic Freedom Act”.

What Senator would ever choose
To stand opposed to Freedom?
Don’t worry that the kids might lose
Their smarts–they’ll never need’em!

Why, ignorance, in politics
Becomes a badge of honor!
The truth is, to these Senate pricks,
A designated goner.

Their ignorance, a point of pride–
A fundamental tenet–
Leaves students only qualified
For Oklahoma Senate.

A bit of a musing on why it is that so many people believe that humans have reached the point where evolution no longer applies to us.

There really is no mystery
In how these people think;
When all recorded history
Is evolution’s *blink*;
If, from a movie, say we will
Remove a single frame–
The picture there is standing still
And must remain the same.
Our children look… about like us
They don’t seem “more evolved”–
And so, case closed, no muss, no fuss;
The problem is resolved.
Of course, they’re wrong, as I and you
Both know; the truth is this–
That Man has a myopic view,
And ignorance is bliss.

PeeZee? PeeZed?

There once was a man named PZ
Whose minions were easily led–
By the thousands, for him,
They would bow to his whim
Until pollsters were all filled with dread!

In a frankly bizarre ad campaign, a major burger chain will send you a coupon for a free burger for every ten friends you delete from your Facebook friends list.

Think of all your friends, deleted,
Just for burgers, barely meated,

Friendship–just like that, so fickle,
Just so you can hold your pickle

Your former friends, they are the ones
Who put the meat between your buns

If you’d trade friends for meat and mustard
I, for one… am just disgustard.

(And now this silly writing ends–
I’m off to sell my facebook friends.)

Wow! Somebody posted one of my poems on the BBC blog! Way down at comment 183. Comment 184 calls it “hardly poetry”. (Actually, it is not one of my favorites at all–I always found it clunky and stilted–but objectively speaking, the writer of comment 184 is a jerk.)

More to the point, though… the question under debate is whether the BBC’s “Thought For The Day”, which currently is filled exclusively with religious voices (of various denominations, of course), should expand to include atheist Thought as well. The Beeb is opposed, currently:

Thought for the Day is a unique slot in which speakers from a wide range of religious faiths reflect on an issue of the day from their faith perspective. In the midst of the three hour Today programme devoted to overwhelmingly secular concerns – national and international news and features, searching interviews etc – the slot offers a brief, uninterrupted interlude of spiritual reflection. We believe that broadening the brief would detract from the distinctiveness of the slot.

Within Thought for the Day a careful balance is maintained of voices from different Christian denominations and other religions with significant membership in the UK. We are broadcasting to the general Radio 4 audience which regularly engages with the comments and ideas expressed by our contributors from the world’s major faiths – whether they are believers or not.

Outside Thought for the Day the BBC’s religious output contains both religious and non-religious voices in programmes such as Sunday, Beyond Belief, Moral Maze. In these programmes atheists, humanists and secularists are regularly heard, the religious world is scrutinised, its leaders and proponents are questioned.

Non-religious voices are also heard extensively across the general output in news, current affairs, documentaries, talks, science, history. These programmes approach the world from perspectives which are not religious. As, of course, do the other 2 hours 57 minutes of Today.”

So… let’s see if I have this straight. For 2 hours 57 minutes, anyone can talk; there is no requirement of belief or lack thereof. For three minutes, though, atheists are not allowed.

Excluding the atheists—sure, that’s ok—
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
Or judging your worth based on how much you weigh
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
Get out, if you’re black! Or you’re white! Or you’re gray!
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
And keep your mouth shut if you chance to be gay
So long as it’s only three minutes a day

Let’s bother the man with the ill-made toupee
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
And joke at the homeless, with no place to stay
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
Any group that we wish, we can not let them play
So long as it’s only three minutes a day
And look down our noses in utter dismay
So long as it’s only three minutes a day

It’s only three minutes; no need for dismay
If you choose to get huffy, and join in the fray
We’ll label you “angry” to keep you at bay
Dismissing your view as a public display
And repackaging it as some worn-out cliché
From a group with essentially nothing to say

And it’s fine if our freedom of speech goes away…
So long as it’s only three minutes a day

(and for the benefit of the writer of comment 184–Don’t worry; I already agree with you, it’s not poetry. I don’t write poetry, I write verse. And it will not nourish your soul, for perhaps the same reason that it will not nourish the pixies in your garden.)

They’re letting my Uncle Sid out of the slammer! (photo of Sid at the link… copies prohibited.)

Sid’s great escape from the Portobello Aquarium is about to become permanent.
.
.
.
“We are still trying to catch a new octopus to replace Sid, who will then be set free.”

Bummer for the new guy, of course, but good news for Uncle Sid!

…of course, as PZ points out, Sid has a short life expectancy, so it was probably time to go looking for a replacement anyway, before some little visitor to the aquarium asks why Sid has turned gray and started floating upside-down… So it turns out that freedom’s just another word for no much time to live.

Hey, that’s catchy…

Busted flat in Portobello, hiding in a drain
He was feeling just as trapped as he could be
Sid escaped from his little tank and tried to make it plain
He’d rather spend his last days in the sea

Five days later, Sid was seen… heading for the door
He didn’t make it, but you know, at least he tried
He saw an open doorway and he knew what it was for
He knew it had to lead to the other side

Freedom’s just another word for not much time to live
But better than the drainpipe where he hid
They couldn’t make him happy, so they gave what they could give
And it’s good enough to do what they just did
Good enough for me, and my octopus, Sid.

From the warm New Zealand ocean, to the Portobello tank
Hey, Sid, he was an underwater star
But even if they fed him, he couldn’t give them thanks
It ain’t free food, if jail is where you are.

And now that Sid is growing old, and soon is going to die
(They don’t live very long, like you or me)
His keepers soon will let him go, and he won’t ask them why—
If you’re gonna die, you might as well die free.

Freedom’s just another word for not much time to live
But better than the drainpipe where he hid
They couldn’t make him happy, so they gave what they could give
And it’s good enough to do what they just did
Good enough for me, and my octopus, Sid.

(la la la la…)

In today’s BBC News, we have a story by someone who obviously is not a reader of The Digital Cuttlefish. Specifically, the story asks the question “Is love just a chemical cocktail?“

It is said that love is a drug. But is it just a drug?

That is the contention of Larry Young, a professor of neuroscience at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia.

Writing in the respected scientific journal Nature, Professor Young argues that love can be explained by a series of neurochemical events that are happening in specific brain areas.

In truth, Dr. Young does give lip service to the role of evolution, although he really appears to be more satisfied with his proximate causation–specifically, oxytocin.

I’ve seen this before, at a conference. Very cool, of course, and very incomplete. And again, to give him his due, Dr. Young does not disagree.

He believes there are other chemicals involved in strengthening that bond – it is just a matter of doing the research and finding out which ones they are.

“I’m sure that we are just beginning to tap the surface,” he said.

“There are hundreds of signalling molecules in the brain – they all act in different brain areas.

“I think one day we will have a much better understanding of how all these chemicals interact and act in specific brain areas that have specific function that give rise to these complex emotions.”

Mind you, I am utterly convinced that he can find every single chemical involved and still have an incomplete explanation. A complete proximal explanation is no ultimate explanation at all.

And then…

Having put poets firmly in their place, Professor Young will have to take on the arguments of scientific colleagues who might take issue with his view that love is all down to chemicals.

Them’s fightin’ words.

You’ve seen the Evolutionary Biology Valentine’s Day Poem, I am sure. (IF not, go read it. Now. Before you continue.)

These verses are just for the BBC story…

The latest suspect, oxytocin,
Floods the brain when we draw close (in
Some perfumes they’ll add a dose, in
Hopes of that reaction)
The chemical increases trust,
So hopes are that it may, or must
Produce a love that’s more than lust
Or “animal attraction”

But oxytocin, too, controls
The bonding seen in prairie voles
Which act as if they pledge their souls
To one and only one;
Their cousins, though, the rats and mice
Behave as if they don’t think twice
And if some nearby rodent’s nice
They’ll surely have some fun

The differences twixt vole and mouse—
Why one’s a catch and one’s a louse—
If chemistry you would espouse
As why, I disagree—
The chemistry’s not why, but how
One rodent keeps its marriage vow
And one seeks out new fields to plow
Not why at all, you see.

(These would go between verses 2 and 3 of the original.)

Gotta run! Buy my book, link my site (to “cuttlefish”–see the comments to my previous post), be well, yadda yadda yadda…

DC

I had, long ago, noted that when one googles “cuttlefish”, among the top returns is the creationist apologetics site “answers in genitals” (or something close to that, anyway). This loathsome bit of tripe is on the very first page, while at the time of my original writing, I think yours truly was on page 6, if that.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that “The Digital Cuttlefish” had managed to claw… er, jet… its way to the bottom of page one! Very nice indeed, even if still below AIG. Thought I, “probably not that easy to just… move up a google page so quickly.”

Then came XKCD.

One cuttlefish comic, and XKCD is the third cuttlefish link (not counting image results), and your humble correspondent is back on page two.

Now, I have no problems with XKCD being way up there. What I have a problem with is Answers In Genitals being on page one still! And now, I know that there is a way (at least in theory) of getting a site bumped up in a relatively short time. Mind you, I don’t know what that way is, other than to be XKCD, but perhaps one or more of you do know. Do I ask PZ to ask his hordes to pharyngulink The Digital Cuttlefish? Do I offer a fatted calf to the people at Google? Do I start drawing stick-figure comics on romance, sarcasm, math, and language?

I really, really, really don’t like the idea of someone looking for information on cuttlefish, and coming up with the “fact” that they were intelligently designed to be a delicious “seafood delicacy”. Despite, apparently, not being kosher. There are many sites (not just mine) that are much better answers for google to return (I am happy to see that the NOVA program and TONMO are both ahead of AIG).

Anyway, a reposting of my first reaction to AIG’s silly creationism…

Similarity shows that a common designer
With similar blueprints and parts
Constructed the human and cuttlefish forms—
I swear by all three of your hearts.

The God who created the heavens and earth
And killed dinosaurs off in The Flood
Used the same old ideas again and again
You can tell by your copper-green blood.

But the clearest, most obvious clue to His Touch
Is the similar form to our eye
(They are really quite different, in various ways,
But if you won’t tell, neither will I).

Color-blind cuttlefish never see red
But they can see polarized light;
This common designer gets different effects
Out of human and cuttlefish sight.

Anatomically, too, these are two different eyes
They have retinas frontward-to-back,
And cuttlefish reshape the whole of their eye
Because shapeable lenses they lack.

The shape of the pupil allows them to see
To the front and the rear all at once
So similar, clearly, to what we can do—
If you dare disagree, you’re a dunce!

When Answers in Genesis says it’s design
And not just a matter of fitness
I know they’re not fibbing—right there, number nine—
Thou shalt not bear false witness.

I only have one little, lingering doubt
Though I really, I promise, am trying—
If it’s perfectly clear they see common design
It’s even more clear that they’re lying.

I figure, out of all my readers there are maybe 3 who have not heard about this yet–the selections have been made for The Open Laboratory 2008, and I am quite honored to have one of my verses (and it’s one of my favorites!) make the cut (for the second year!).

I’d tell you to go read all of the entries now (and it would be good advice–excellent writing, all of it!), but instead I will recommend that you wait until it comes out in book form. Much more convenient, and you have the added benefit of looking hip, cool, intelligent and 86% more physically attractive when you are seen with that book in your hand (increased benefits are derived from actually reading it).

Sadly, you will have to wait a couple of weeks for the book to actually be printed, so in the meantime, you can realize many of the same benefits by ordering your very own copy of “The Digital Cuttlefish, Vol. 1”, which does include the verse that was chosen for inclusion in The Open Laboratory 2008. And, come to think of it, the verse that was chosen for The Open Laboratory, 2007. Oddly enough, both are science-oriented love poems. Perhaps a disclaimer is in order: If you are coming to this site only because you have seen the Open Lab posts, and think that all I write is scientific love poems… have a look around!

Now, how to order The Digital Cuttlefish, Vol. 1… there must be a button around here somewhere…

Ah, there it is!

Lastly, for those who cherish the notion of going out and reading all those posts in their natural habitat, rather than having them delivered to your doorstep, I close with the list of selected posts (no, not the links, remember I want you to buy the book…but the links are available by clicking the Open Lab link in my first paragraph above)…

Adventures in Ethics and Science: Research with vulnerable populations: considering the Bucharest Early Intervention Project (part 1).

All My Faults are Stress-Related: Data, Interpretations and Field Work

Bad Astronomy: WR 104: A nearby gamma-ray burst?

Bayblab: A History of Beardism and the Science that Backs It

Cabinet of Wonders: A Rule of Thumb

Catalogue of Organisms: Are You Sucking on a Lemon or a Lime?

Charles Darwin’s Blog: Someone should invent a device to look at the micro world

Cognitive Daily: How to make your eye feel like it’s closed, when it’s actually open

Cosmic Variance: The First Quantum Cosmologist

Dear Blue Lobster: Bloop: A Crustacean Phenomenon?

Denialism blog: Fountain pens

Dr. Jekyll & Mrs. Hyde: Why I blog….

Effect Measure: Important new flu paper in Cell: part I

Green Gabbro: The Igneous Petrology of Ice Cream

Hope for Pandora: Dear Reviewer

The Beagle Project Blog: Detecting natural selection: a pika’s tale

Laelaps: Who scribbled all over Darwin’s work?

Life, Birds, and Everything: Do we see what bees see?

Living the Scientific Life (Scientist, Interrupted): Audubon’s Aviary: Portraits of Endangered Species

Mad Scientist, Jr.: Brain Extractions

Marmorkrebs: How Marmorkrebs can make the world a better place

Michael Nielsen’s Blog: The Future of Science

Mind the Gap: In which science becomes a sport – hypothetically speaking

Minor Revisions: To Whom it May Concern

Nano2Hybrids: What IS a carbon nanotube?

Neurotic Physiology: Uber Coca, by Sigmund Freud, (reposted on Neurotopia 2.0: Uber Coca, by Sigmund Freud)

Not Exactly Rocket Science: Space Invader DNA jumped across mammalian genomes

Nothing’s Shocking: Poster session paparazzi

Observations of a Nerd: Having Some Fun With Evolution

Plus magazine – news from the world of maths: United Kingdom – Nil Points

Podblack Blog: Smart Bitches, Not Meerly Sex

Pondering Pikaia: Social Clocks: How do cave bats know when it is dark outside?

Providentia: Dr. Fliess’ Patient

Quintessence of Dust: Finches, bah! What about Darwin’s tomatoes?

Reciprocal Space: I get my kicks from thermodynamicks!

Rubor Dolor Calor Tumor: Calor?

Science After Sunclipse: Physics Makes a Toy of the Brain

Sciencewomen: A reckless proposal, or ‘Scientists are people too, and it’s time we started treating them that way.’

Terra Sigilatta: Liveblogging the Vasectomy Chronicles

The End Of The Pier Show: On The Hardness of Biology

The Loom: Even Blood Flukes Get Divorced

The OpenHelix Blog: The Beginnings of Immunofluorescence

The Oyster’s Garter: How a coccolithophore without its plates is like a grin without a cat

The Scientist: On the Nature of Networking

The Tree of Life: What is so bad about brain doping? Apparently, NIH thinks something is.

Tom Paine’s Ghost: Biochemistry of Halloween: Installment 1

Tomorrow’s Table: 10 Things about GE crops to Scratch From Your Worry List

Uncertain Principles: We Are Science

Wired Science Blog: Correlations: The Third Branch of Science?

A canna’ change the laws of physics: Expect The Unexpected

xkcd: Purity

Digital Cuttlefish: The Evolutionary Biology Valentine’s Day Poem

PZ reports on an email he received recently… which you can read all about for yourself if you like–it’s not really my topic today. Just one tiny comment she made struck me, and made me feel sorry for her. “… I reckon I’d be a pretty miserable, angry person with a chip on my shoulder if I also believed that I was no more than worm meat at the end of the day.” Poor woman.

When we are dead, we’ll feed the worms
And other stuff that writhes and squirms
And if you cannot come to terms
With that—well, use your head!
There are no ifs nor ands nor buts:
Bacteria within our guts
Will start to eat us; that is what’s
In store, once we are dead.

Yes, life is short and full of toil,
And when we’ve shuffled off this coil
Our carcasses will start to spoil—
There’s nothing wrong with that.
Our share of fish or pigs or cows,
And all the chicken time allows,
Is done. It’s only fair that now’s
The worms’ turn to get fat.

Should we die young, or old and gray,
The laws of nature we’ll obey
And spend our heat in mere decay,
Replenishing the Earth;
“Three score and twelve” may be our years
For love and laughter, hope and fears
And then—mere smoke—life disappears;
No heaven, no rebirth.

And with no heaven up above
Nor hell we ought be frightened of
It’s best we fill our lives with love,
With learning, and with fun!
Don’t waste a lifetime while you wait
For halo, wings, and pearly gate—
This is your life, so get it straight:
You only get the one!

I’ll have no moment lost to prayer,
To cleanse my soul and thus prepare
For passage to… THERE’S NOTHING THERE!
Those moments, all, are wasted!
I’m only here a little time
Before it’s bugs and worms and slime;
I’ll eat and drink my life so I’m
Delicious when I’m tasted!