Two Videos to Make Your Heart Go Melty (Unless You’re a Hater)

Sometimes, things happen that remind me the world isn’t filled quite to the brim with assholes. There are plenty of good folk, too. And sometimes, I collect those things and share them with you.

First up, a commercial from a for-profit company that carefully considered some of their customers’ suggestions they hate the non-heterosexual folk and said, “Nah, we’ll go with making love from hate instead.”

Yes, of course I got teary-eyed. Are you kidding? And yes, the cynical will say that of course they laughed at the haters, as ten times as many customers aren’t haters, but this was a rather in-your-face rejection of the hateful message rather than just quietly letting the subject drop. So yes, Honey Maid will of course be my graham cracker of choice whenever I venture into culinary territory that requires them.

Next, we have got a mock-serious Irish ad warning about the gaypocalypse that will surely happen should same-sex folk be allowed to marry. They portray the actual dangers of passing marriage equality legislation. Nailed it. Before you watch, please finish all food and/or drink and remove anything spillable from around the computer, because you’re probably going to be howling with laughter and possibly pounding the table. Let’s not allow the gaypocalypse to claim another victim before it’s got properly started.

Unfortunately, I suspect there actually will be people barricading themselves in little enclaves and homeschooling their children in desperate fear that accepting people different from them will get them zapped by God. They will be as pitiable as the couple in the ad.

Want a bonus video? Of course you do! Here you are: the original hater song!

I don’t know about you, but I kind of feel they were unfair to gibbons… We shall make up for it with a desperately cute meme.

Image shows a cat being hugged by a monkey. Caption reads, "Teh monkee is gibbon meh a hugz."

Adventures in Christianist Earth Science Education IVc: Wherein the Climate Heats Up

Onward, Christianist weather! We’re warming up with some global warming talk today. While SPC was content to devote a mere text box to climate change, basically blowing raspberries at anyone who gives a shit about it and waving off dramatic increases in greenhouse gas emissions by proclaiming hey, plants love carbon dioxide!, BJU’s Earth Science 4th Edition isn’t satisfied with blurting a few facts and moving on. No, there’s a whole chapter on the subject. And, people, they are the totes reasonable ones. They’re right in the middle. Look: they sneer at both sides!

They begin with a very telling couplet of sentences:

You’ve probably heard a lot about climate change. And you’re probably wondering what you should think about it.

This right here encapsulates exactly the attitude shared across all three Christianist curricula: they aren’t here to teach kids how to think. They’re telling them what to think. There’s only one way – God’s way – and they all have the direct line to the Almighty. Never mind they’re all hearing different things when they call. They have the answer (theirs God’s), there’s only one correct way to think about things (theirs God’s), and by God, you will think exactly what they God tells you to think. (Nevermind that God appears to have told the three textbook writers different things. I’m sure it’s just one of those ineffable mystery thingies, or the other two are delusional, or something.)

Image shows a white and orange cat bopping a gray and white tabby on the nose. Caption says, "BJU cat sez, "No, this what bible meanz."

Image courtesy Nathan Vaughn
via Flicker (CC BY 2.0). Caption by moi.

So let’s find out “what you should think,” per BJU’s God.

The first thing is not to think like those Christians.

Some Christians reject the principles of environmentalism because they associate them with the extreme views of people who worship nature and violently protect animal rights. These believers go in the other direction, polluting and consuming Earth’s resources with no concern about conservation. They may think, “God is going to burn up this world some day soon anyway and create a new one. So there’s no need to worry about using the earth and its resources wisely, right? This view is anti-environmentalism.

Well, that sure told them. Are you listening, A Beka and ACE? Herngh??? You’re not thinking right!

Now, I hope you were running low on straw, because ES4’s having a fire sale:

There are also radical environmentalists who view people as nature’s biggest problem. Man’s works are evil. Nature is good. Population growth is bad. Technology consumes Earth’s precious resources and pollutes. “Mother Earth” must be protected at all costs because we came from the earth through evolution.

Ah, how sweet of them to call everyone who thinks we should, maybe, y’know, save the planet we live on from our own predation because hey, we live here “radical environmentalists.” It’s kinda like how all the folks who think hey, mebbe we should stop being so shitty to women are “radical feminists.”

And, like MRAs, they want us to know that we are so wrong, you guys. We’re defying God! Humans are the bestest, He said so! And those other Christians are wrong, too, because we’re stewards! God said so!!

Oh, and the “climate change debate” is “a crusade of extreme environmentalists.”

Oy.

Well, at least they believe saving animals from our own stupidity like oil spills, doing some recycling, and engaging in some energy conservation glorifies God. Baby steps.

Image shows a swimming dog with bulging eyes, getting ready to bite a bottle floating in the pond with him. Caption says, "How many times do I have to tell you that this goes in the recycling bin???"

All that’s the first page of the chapter. Laying it on with a trowel, they are. Fortunately, aside from a not-funny cartoon about a teenage girl using global warming as an excuse to buy a new wardrobe, they dial back to just-the-facts mode. They do a fine job explaining things that affect climate, like latitude, ocean currents, topography, and so forth. No God talk ensues until we turn the page and run smack into a text box about the Canopy Theory. Yes, that canopy. Oh, dear.

We’re told to “imagine the rain pounding on the Ark’s roof,” and where did all that water come from? (And why doesn’t ES4 mention it would’ve been boiling?) We’re treated to vapor canopies and proof texts. There’s an illustration of the vapor canopy that looks like an orange wrapped in a coffee cup sleeve. They fuss over how the Hebrew word raqiya should translate. They dither with Russell Humphrey’s idea that God made a bunch of stuff with two different gobs of water, and hey, even though “we don’t know as a certainty how God actually created the universe,” that totally fits the Bible, right? Only to become shocked – shocked, I tell you – that actually modeling this canopy thing shows either a) Earth was broiling hot like Venus or b) you could hardly get your ankles wet with the rain resulting from the canopy collapse. And the authors conclude that the canopy’s probably a dud, because the dude who came up with the original vapor canopy theory was one of those freaks who believe in an Earth that’s millions of years old. Harrumph.

This would be adorable if it wasn’t in a book claiming to be an actual science textbook.

Following, we have a long section about climate zones, which could use a little more detail on their map, plus someone who knows what a saguaro cactus is (“Towering Sonora cactuses?” *snortle*) Otherwise, it’s not bad, and is a nice introduction to the concept of climate zones.

But we get a hefty dose of OMFG with the “Serving God as a Climatologist” box. They wax nearly lyrical over Lonnie Thompson, who “may have spent more time than anyone else in the world above an elevation above an elevation of 18,000 feet.” He is, they say, “trying to preserve history in the ice.” Now, you may get the impression that Dr. Thompson is a creationist, considering how these creationists are salivating over him. He is not. In fact, he is a pretty important scientist on the climate change front, and so the staff writing ES4 have a shiny-sharp knife for his parka’d back:

Dominion Opportunities

A secular climatologist’s work is impressive and can be difficult, but he is missing something big. His data is valuable and is needed by the climate change debate, but his interpretation is affected by his worldview. What he interprets as annual changes in ice over thousands of years may actually be a record of individual storms over a much shorter period of time. Secular, old earth views of history reject the authority of God’s Word.

Waal, that’s a fine fuck-you to Lonnie, innit?

The current controversy over climate change highlights how this science and the politics it drives can touch our daily lives. We need more Christians in this field to build solid scientific models based on the true history of the earth – the one found in the Bible.

So. These little ratfuckers want to infiltrate scientific fields, shit all over the data scientists like Lonny T have sweated blood and risked their lives to obtain, and force everyone to follow their fairy tales, which basically means allowing the world to broil to death because we can’t see reality for what it is.

I don’t like ‘em and can’t trust ‘em. Nor should anyone who works with one of these voluntarily delusional fuckwads.

I shall let Dr. Thompson have a stern word:

Thompson dismisses skeptics who contend that the current warming trend is due to a natural cycle. “Name one who has ever really studied climate or collected data,” he says. “I bet you can’t.” Glaciers, he adds, “have no political agenda. They don’t care if you’re a Democrat or a Republican. Science is about what is, not what we believe or hope. And it shows that global warming is wiping out invaluable geological archives right before our eyes.”*

Image shows a man wearing a fur hat, sunglasses, an ice-goatee on his beard, and a black jacket with snow on it. He is looking into the camera with a no-nonsense attitude.

Lonnie G. Thompson during an Antarctic Expedition in 1974. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Yeah. Something tells me he’d have zero sympathy for BJU’s “but that’s not what God says” shenanigans.

You’d think, after a post this long, that we’re done with this chapter. But no! There’s a whole ‘nother half devoted specifically to climate change. Buckle in, kids, and be sure to wear your best crash helmets. I have a feeling the next post is gonna get wild and wooly.

 

*I believe that, my darlings, is the rhetorical equipment of bringing a howitzer to a knife fight. Lonnie is awesome.

Derpy Horses

I haven’t had a chance to do up our horsies properly, but we need a bit of the light stuff, anyway. And this year, the medieval faire cooperated. Usually, I get horses looking rather dramatic and awesome, or like serious workhorses, but this time round, I caught a few in moments of derp.

Image shows a dun horse with its tongue out.

[your caption here]

The above horse was brand-new, didn’t like the crowd noise or the festival atmosphere, and I believe in the above photo she was expressing her opinion of the proceedings. This was shortly before they called upon her to joust and she said, “Nope. Nope nope nope noper NOPE.” Smart lass.

Image is a pale gray horse with its head back, eyes rolled, and nostrils flared.

[your caption here]

This one gave us two moments of derp. There’s the above, and an even better one below:

Image shows same horse, now trotting away with its eyes closed and its bottom lip dangling in an attitude of extreme derp.

[your caption here]

I salute these noble steeds for their contribution to the world’s stock of derpy horse pictures. For the most part, they’re firey and fierce and majestic, so I know it took extra effort on their parts to get the derp done right. You can contribute by captioning!

If you’re local, do check their calendar and see when you might get a chance to go enjoy their live performances. Is anyone else around on October 5th? I’m rather tempted to go…

Done with Dawkins

Blaming other people for their own rapes is a bright line for me. You don’t cross it. Back when Dawkins was being a complete asshole to women who wanted people in the movement to treat them with a modicum of respect, I didn’t write him off. I tried to explain why his statements were a problem. He didn’t listen to any of us who wrote to him, but several years later, he did help call for an end to threats and harassment, and I thought for a few seconds he’d seen a glimmer of light, before he went back to being a fuckwad again. But he hadn’t crossed the bright line just yet: he hadn’t explicitly blamed women for their own attacks.

Then he did.

Image shows two tweets from Richard Dawkins. First tweet says, "Officer, it's not my fault I was drunk driving. You see, somebody got me drunk." Second tweet says, "The REAL Rape Culture: 'All occurences of sexual intercourse are rape unless there is certified evidence to the contrary.'"

Tweets by Richard Dawkins, blaming the victims and dismissing rape. We are done here. Screenshots from Stephanie Zvan’s blog.

Some folks, like PZ, still tried to talk some sense into him. And failed.

I won’t even try.

It’s not a too-old-to-know-better issue. I can’t excuse him on that count.

Some folks, like Courtney Caldwell, are able to respond with mocking contempt. I’m too angry for that just yet.

Dawkins’s frantic back-peddling, pretending he thinks raping a drunk woman is abhorrent (but so is accusing someone of raping you while you’re drunk!), only sinks my opinion of him further. He’s trying to blow enough smoke to screen Shermer, and I have nothing but utter contempt for people who do that shit.

Image shows Dawkins lecturing with a screen behind him.  Across the top of the screen is, "Moral: Make sure she stays unconscious, fellas." Below is a screenshot of two tweets from Richard Dawkins. First tweet says, "Raping a drunk woman is appalling. So is jailing a man when the sole prosecution evidence is 'I was too drunk to remember what happened.'" Second tweet says, "Don't EVER rape anyone, drunk or sober. But also, don't accuse anyone of a crime if you can't remember what happened (& no other evidence)." Below, on either side of his head, is the slogan, "It's only rape if she remembers."

My interpretation of Dawkins’s noxious opinions. The tweets are his own words. The slogans are what potential rapists are hearing in his words.

Even if he hadn’t already been pressing Ophelia Benson to help him shut people up about Michael Shermer before Oppenheimer’s article, and continued his determination to defend an alleged rapist by spitting on the victims, those original statements mean we are done here. There is nothing he can say, nothing he can do, that will make amends for them – aside from a full and unqualified apology, followed by strong, sustained action on behalf of rape victims, which we will never get from him.

Dawkins is on the side of the rapists. I am finished with him. Why shouldn’t I be? He’s made his position crystal clear.

This tweet referencing the deleted tweet above is still visible:

Image shows two tweets. First tweet is from Zee Mhaskar and says, "OMG @RichardDawkins might fall in trouble again with feminists." Second tweet is from Dawkins, and says, ".@MhaskarChief With a certain kind of feminist, of course. Not with feminists who truly respect women instead of patronising them as victims."

Yes, that’s what he said. Listening to and believing women who report their experiences of sexism and misogyny and harassment and assault and offering them support in seeking social change to the attitudes that perpetuate sexism and misogyny and harassment and assault? That’s disrespecting women, and acknowledging the truth of anybody’s victimisation by anyone else is patronising them. But pretending that sexism and misogyny and harassment and assault is not really happening is truly respecting women!

That attitude is beyond reprehensible. But it is Dawkins’s attitude. Rape survivors such as myself can expect nothing but patronizing contempt from him, and a dismissal of our experiences. The people who supported me and helped me survive the aftermath, who got me back up and out in the world, who taught me that violence against women is the fault of the rapist only and that our culture can be changed to give people like my rapist condemnation rather than support, the folks who turned me into a feminist and gave me back my voice, all those people aren’t real feminists to Dawkins.

I know who the real feminists are. They are not Dawkins and his lackeys. No one on that side of the rift has anything to say to me, ever, unless it is, “I’m so sorry. I was wrong. What can I do to fix this?”

Dawkins is beyond hope at this point, and needs to be excised like a cancer if movement atheism wants to be more than an old boys club with a few chill girls and a reputation for being full of rapists and the men and women who love to let them get away with it.

I’m not speaking to him right here. I’m speaking to the few fans of his who may have a trace of decency left within them, and yet think his idea that being too drunk to consent means a woman is responsible for her own rape have some merit. I have a simple message I hope you’re still humane enough to hear: It doesn’t.

As FossilFishy said at Pharyngula:

For those playing along at home, it’s simple:

Sex without consent is rape.

Impairment due to alcohol removes the ability to consent.

Therefor sex with the impaired is rape.

It doesn’t matter how she got drunk, once she was impaired enough to be unable to give meaningful consent having sex with her is rape. To say she was responsible is victim blaming.

In case you’re still confused, Pteryxx at Pharyngula is here to help you further:

For background to those poor confused souls who just can’t understand how drinking too much alcohol could be anything less than a fully conscious and deliberate action on the part of the wanton woman rape victim. We had several long discussions last summer on just that. How an over-eager host topping off one’s wineglass can make you lose track of how many glassfuls you’ve had, with reference to the refilling-soup-bowl experiment. How bartenders or party hosts sometimes deliberately over-pour women’s drinks so that they’ll be softer targets for predatory bros. How traditional “girly” drinks contain a lot of fruit juice that covers the taste so the drink doesn’t seem as strong as it actually is.

From one such discussion: (link to comment)

I was responding to statements that the women involved should have known better than to get drunk. Having been in exactly the same situation (@ 194) — my glass never being empty– that one of the women described, I know it’s not that simple.

I love wine, but I’m a pretty careful drinker. When I order in a bar, I also order water and I stop at three glasses. But the night I got so drunk I didn’t finish even one glass. So the usual rule, a three-drink limit, didn’t ever get into play.

That “just know your limit and quit,” or “just make sure you also drink some water” can be deliberately subverted by sexual predators, even without spiking drinks. Putting all the onus on potential victims to keep total control of the situation, when the victims are dealing with someone who has studied and practiced ways to undercut that control, is a clear cut example, in my mind, of exactly how rape culture operates.

The potential rapist is allowed to use any trick in the book to get the victim drunk. It’s up to the victim to see through every trick and remain sober– but of course, all the while not even *suspecting* that the person manipulating her is a rapist until that’s been proven in a court of law.

Tilted playing field, much?

See also Almost Diamonds and some research…

Furthermore: if you don’t want to be called a rape apologist? Then don’t be one.

As for myself, I’m going to remove Dawkins’s books from my shelves. We’re done here.

Alex Gabriel Could Use Your Kind Assistance

Is this you?

Image shows a black and white kitten looking at a coin. Caption says, "I has a money. What I do wif it?"

You could help a writer out! Alex Gabriel is experiencing one of those horrible financial dry spells that happens to freelancers, and could use a hand. If you have a money to spare, do please consider sending it his way.

If need to get some graphic design work done, or require an editor, you could help him whilst helping yourself by hiring him. Everybody wins! I’ve seen how he personalizes his work for each of his clients, and he’s got a definite gift for capturing the essence of a person and their blog.

Thanks in advance for helping a fellow blogger out, my darlings!

Image shows a cat in a box covered in money. Caption says, "Money isn't everything, but it ranks right up there with oxygen."

 

Finally! The Perfect Book for Geology-Loving Comic Book Fans!

Have you dreamt of a richly-illustrated, geology-themed superhero comic for kids? One that not only gets the science right, but encourages great study habits, turns ordinary encounters into fantastical geologic adventures, models kindness and heart-warming family dynamics, and encourages creativity, all without talking down to kids for an instant? My darlings, your dreams just came true:

Image shows the cover of The Incredible Plate Tectonics Comic.

The Incredible Plate Tectonics Comic.

When I first got my hands on an advance copy of The Incredible Plate Tectonics Comic, I squeed. I did. Because I am a nerd, people. I love geology, and I thoroughly enjoy superhero comics, and I adore media that put someone other than a generic white male in the spotlight for a change. And this comic book is written by Kanani K. M. Lee, an actual geophysicist whose specialty is the interior of the earth – and writing rocking great geologic comics. Illustrator Adam Wallenta brings her characters to vivid life, with blazing, bold color illustrations.

Our hero is George, a sweet and brilliant African-American boy who lives with his grandma and has a secret identity. He’s an ordinary boy worried about getting to school on time and passing his earth science test. But when cracks in the sidewalk menace, he transforms into Geo, a geologically-savvy superhero. His skateboard becomes a rocket-board, and his backpack becomes Rocky, his faithful robot dog. The sidewalk cracks morph into tectonic plates; an open manhole erupts as a raging volcano (from which he saves a visually-impaired woman). He encounters earthquakes and tsunamis, ties the geological drama to the lessons on the earth’s structure and plate tectonics taught by his science teacher, and after heroic feats of recall, aces his test.

Detail from The Incredible Plate Tectonics Comic.

It’s a richly-imagined world that vividly shows the way the plates move, and how those movements are driven by titanic forces deep within our home planet. Using diagrams, analogies, and dramatic illustrations how the varied geologic phenomena Geo experienced can all be tied to those plate motions. Dr. Lee manages to pack a textbook-worth of information in, but paces it in such a way that it doesn’t feel overwhelming. And the characters she’s created are a delight.

This may not be a suitable comic for very young children (unless they’re the kind of kids who started using complex technical terms at the age of five), but you can feel quite comfortable getting a copy for anyone from grade school to senior citizen. Anyone who loves comics, science, or both will enjoy this tale. And the second half of the book is an excellent prose tutorial on plate tectonics, paleomagnetic reversals, the earth’s structure, seismology, earthquakes, volcanoes, and tsunamis, and finishes with a primer on what geologists actually do that will help everyone realize there’s more to it than just rocks. The final section gives links to geology activities suitable for trying at home. Neat!

I can’t tell you what a relief The Incredible Plate Tectonics Comic is after spending over a month buried in creationist textbooks that not only mutilate geoscience, but have severely stunted imaginations. This is the comic I’ll be slipping to kids who are stuck learning sham science. It shows the real thing, and in a gorgeous way. It’s the book I’ll be giving to kids who want to know more about geoscience, and the people who think rocks are boring, and the folks who care about diversity in STEM, and anyone who needs a gentle nudge to see how rewarding diversity can be. I can see this as the lovingly-battered book people slip off a shelf to show as the comic that got them in to science, or helped them understand the news when things like the Napa quake happen.

And I’m so thrilled we’ll be seeing Geo again – I’m told more adventures are already in the works. I can’t wait!

Go introduce yourself to Geo here, and reserve your copy here.

Image shows Misha asleep on the keyboard and my paper copy of the above review. I was supposed to be transcribing it, but she was so darned comfy...

Misha’s idea of helping me get this review online for ye.

This review was originally published at Rosetta Stones. But you guys are the only ones getting the bonus kitty pic!

Who’d Like a Goode Olde Blacke Powder Explosion, Then?

Alas, I didn’t make it to Sunday’s festivities – Starspider put her knee out, and needed to stay off it so that we didn’t end up having to pop it back into place again on the field. People get squicky about stuff like dislocated knees. She, of course, enjoyed watching her roomie’s face as he nearly tossed his cookies helping her wrench everything back into place. She’s like that. And she’s fine, and sends her regrets. Next year!

While we wait for next year to arrive, I’ve got yer black powder guns a-firing.

Image shows the pirates from yesterday's post tamping down their black powder in their guns and getting ready to Make Noise.

Pirates prepare to plunder.

Unfortunately, the video can’t capture the ground shaking when that small cannon at the end went, but I think you’ll get the general idea. Enjoy!

That little cannon was sweet – and so loud! If you want a better look, here ye go:

Image shows a pirate bent over, tamping powder down the barrel of a small cannon on a wooden frame, while Pirate Jamie Hyneman looks on in the background.

Tamping the powder down, gonna be a big boom, yeah!

I wish I knew who these fellas were, but the website for the faire doesn’t say, and I didn’t grab a flyer. Perhaps Trebuchet knows?

I’ll have horsies and hurlers up soon, as long as no one else in the skeptical community says or does something outrageously awful in the next day or two.

So Much Wrong: James Randi’s Rape Culture Remarks

Interesting factoid: James Randi doesn’t think women are worth as much as men. Oh, I’m sure if I got hold of him on the phone, he’d deny that. Probably would have some wonderful words about how amazing women are and how much he respects them and equality and achievement and such. Problem is, if he spoke those words, I wouldn’t believe him. Neither does he, deep down.

Let’s look at the evidence, shall we? Here is what he told Mark Oppenheimer, who blew the lid off Shermer’s (alleged) career as a serial sexual harasser and assaulter.

But Shermer’s reputation really does precede him, and it predates the recent wave of attention given to sex crimes and sexual harassment. I reached the movement’s grand old man, 86-year-old James Randi, by telephone, at his house in Florida. Randi is no longer involved in his foundation’s daily operations, but he remains its chair, and he is a legend of the movement, famously not fooled by anybody. He seems not to be naïve about Shermer — although he’s not so troubled by him, either.

“Shermer has been a bad boy on occasion — I do know that,” Randi told me. “I have told him that if I get many more complaints from people I have reason to believe, that I am going to have to limit his attendance at the conference.

Oh, my. Let’s stop right here a moment. James Randi knew Shermer was, in his words, being “a bad boy on occasion.” Generally, when men talk about other men being “bad boys” in the context of a discussion on sexual harassment and assault, they mean that those “bad boys” were harassing women. Hitting on them. Making them uncomfortable by pressing unwanted advances, or molesting them, or making unwelcome sexual comments, or possibly getting them too drunk to consent or protest and then raping them. Men say other men are being “bad boys” when they don’t think it’s a very big deal, except that those wimminz are sooo sensitive, amirite fellas? And Shermer’s behavior was bad enough for Randi to threaten to “limit his attendance at the conference,” so the behavior Randi was aware of was probably not limited to unwanted flirting.

Randi didn’t give a shit about those women. If he had, he would have limited Shermer’s attendance at the first credible report. But the complaints of however many women – and it seems that there must have been more than one, considering the “on occasion” and “many more complaints” wording – weren’t enough for Randi to throw out his golden boy. No, a few, or a handful, of women being victimized just weren’t enough. He needed more. And those had to be “from people I have reason to believe,” because apparently a woman’s word is kind of hard to swallow, so they had to be reallyreally believable.

How much would you like to bet Randi would put more weight on a man’s word than a woman’s, and not even necessarily realize he was doing it?

And I’ll bet you further that if the believable complaints hit the magic number, he wouldn’t ban Shermer from speaking and eject him permanently from TAM. Nonono, that would be too extreme. He would just have to limit his attendance, is all.

Right, let’s move on to why even this small bit of discipline was never administered.

“His reply,” Randi continued, “is he had a bit too much to drink and he doesn’t remember. I don’t know — I’ve never been drunk in my life. It’s an unfortunate thing … I haven’t seen him doing that. But I get the word from people in the organization that he has to be under better control. If he had gotten violent, I’d have him out of there immediately. I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.”

I may have given Randi the benefit of the doubt, without that statement. I may have been all understanding, and generous, and allowed that yes, it can be hard to believe strangers telling you bad things about your friend, and sure, it’s hard to comprehend just how serious sexual harassment is when you’re not the one constantly subjected to it, and he’s an old white dude (see here for a magnificent rant by RQ on that), and excuses excuses, but that bit ruins him. Let’s look at it closely, shall we?

“His reply,” Randi continued, “is he had a bit too much to drink and he doesn’t remember.

Oh, well, it was all Demon Rum’s fault, the poor man! Allowances must be made! He doesn’t remember assaulting people, so as long as he doesn’t do it too much while he’s blacked-out drunk, no problem, right?

“I haven’t seen him doing that.

And, of course, if a man has not personally witnessed another man doing horrible shit while drunk, there’s no reason to take complaints so damned seriously. Probably didn’t happen. Cuz I didn’t see it personally. Could not possibly be because a) Shermer wasn’t that drunk and b) was smart enough not to assault people right under the eyes of the man who could have him ejected from TAM for life.

“But I get the word from people in the organization that he has to be under better control.

People in your organization are telling you this giant jackass is not under control. And what’s everybody’s brilliant solution? Tell him he has to be under better control! Whee, problem solved, no harm no foul except to the women already victimized, but it’s not like they’re as important as this man who makes lots of money, and it’s definitely not like I, James Randi, am the head of this ship and can decide that Shermer needs to be under better control somewhere else.

Only, it is.

“If he had gotten violent, I’d have him out of there immediately.

ORLY? He allegedly raped a woman in 2008 – that’s not violent enough for ya? Oh, right, unless he’s jumping from the bushes with a knife and beating her unconscious rather than merely drugging her into unconsciousness and then raping her, that’s totes not violent in your world. Riiight. I wonder how non-violent you’d think it was if you were the one waking up after being drugged (yes, alcohol’s a drug) with someone shoving their dick where you didn’t want it?

Limber your shouting voices, folks, it’s about to get far worse.

“I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.”

Image on top is a My Little Pony looking upward in shock. Caption says, "WTF is that?" Bottom image shows her looking in a different direction, seeming angry. Caption says, "Srsly, WTF is that?"

I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.”

Image shows Puss in-Boots from Shrek holding something in his paw, with his mouth open in an angry O. Caption says, "You see this? You see this shit!"

“I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.

Image shows an anime woman with pink hair screaming so hard she's spitting and her eyes look like they're exploding. Caption says, "What is this I don't even"

“I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.”

Image is an angry troll face with red eyes. Background has the letters FFFFFUUUU repeated in red.

If he had gotten violent, I’d have him out of there immediately. I’ve just heard that he misbehaved himself with the women, which I guess is what men do when they are drunk.”

Image shows a man in a very tacky wizard's outfit, holding out his hand. Caption says, "Stand back. Shit's about to get real."

Image shows a nuclear bomb explosion.

Operation Castle – Bravo shot explosion. Image via Wikipedia Commons.

Excuse me. I seem to have exploded all over my part of the planet and must gather my remains. BRB.

Image shows an orange kitten hugging a broom handle. Caption says, "Yah, itz a big job, but somebudyz gotta do it."

How do these words come out of your mouth if you believe women are actual people with genuine autonomy, and not just objects for men, i.e. real people, to play with? How do you speak these words about a man who you have been told harasses women, causing them enough distress that you have actually confronted the harasser and advised him he is risking your limiting his presence at your conference, and think they are reasonable words, if you believe that women have the same value as men? HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK do you speak these words and believe they absolve you of your part in this, excuse your inaction, if you actually believe that sexual harassment and sexual assault are serious problems?

He doesn’t. I’m sure he’d say he does, but his own words and actions prove he doesn’t. Look at what he’s saying: guys will just “misbehave” around women when they are drunk. So it’s perfectly fine that all he did was sexually harass women. Grabbing their tits without consent isn’t violent. Getting them drunk and raping them when they are too incapacitated to refuse sex or give any sort of meaningful consent isn’t violent. To James Randi, anything short of Michael Shermer actually beating a woman right there on the convention floor is not worth fussing over. It’s boys-will-be-boys. It’s oh-well-that’s-what-dude’s-do-when-they’re-drunk. Whatevs. What are all you harridans on about? It’s not like he grabbed a man’s junk, or hit anybody, amirite?

This is rape culture. This is James Randi fully and enthusiastically participating in it, and seeing no real harm.

James Randi couldn’t take women’s complaints seriously. Now we have at least one woman saying she was sexually assaulted by Michael Shermer. And James fucking Randi doesn’t consider that violence. No, she was drunk, and he was drunk, and that’s what dudes do, force themselves on women while they’re drunk. It’s not like that’s real violence that warrants ejecting Michael Shermer from TAM. Not in James Randi’s world.

Hopefully, he’s going to read those words over to himself a few times, and do some hard thinking, and realize exactly what it is that he’s saying. And he’ll realize that what he is saying reduces women to third-rate beings rather than human beings with the right to not be molested, and he’ll apologize, and we’ll see him take a thorough look at the evidence again and maybe, just possibly, decide that the way Shermer “misbehaved” warrants expulsion.

But I will not hold my breath, any more than I am breathlessly anticipating Michael Shermer will become my bestie (newsflash: he never will). Too many male skeptics have proven they’re unable to examine their own sexist behavior and thought patterns, much less correct them.

I just hope that the people who nodded along with Randi’s odious statement are now doing a double-take, and will realize it’s time to confront and eradicate those attitudes, both within themselves and in the broader movement. I hope a lot of people have now realized that treating men’s “misbehavior” towards women, including trans women, as “boys will be boys” gets us nothing but a movement where women and LGBTQ folk aren’t safe, while rapists and harassers are allowed to prey on them with impunity.

If you love skepticism, you’re going to have to clean house. And you’re going to have to admit your heroes have some horrifically bad behaviors and attitudes, and change the culture so that it is made manifestly clear that this shit must and will stop.

You want skepticism to survive as a viable movement? Stop making it a safe haven for predators. Stop making excuses like Randi’s. Start holding everyone accountable for the damage they do. And start making it clear that this sort of shit will no longer be tolerated. At. All.

Trebuchets! Horsies! Geology!

Sunny was the day and high our hearts as we parked in deep grass full o’ crane flies and waded into the 7th Annual Snohomish Pumpkin Hurl & Medieval Faire. And I could continue in the mock-epic language, but I’m not one of Terry Pratchett’s dwarves, so I think I’ll just give you some pictures and snarky commentary instead.

Like Trebuchet said, we only got to see each other for a few minutes, and the new onager had some performance issues, but it was still a lot of fun. Here is a bit of the onager posing with a Cascade mountain whose identity I don’t know because I am teh suck at maps and landmarks.

Image shows the arm and sling of an onager, with a dark pointy mountain in the distance.

The new onager, avec mountain.

It’s okay. He brought Mixed Nuts, too, and that one did its usual excellent job. I haz video. You can haz after I’ve done it up for ye. In the meantime, here’s a hawt action shot where you can see the sling rippling after having hurled its pumpkin.

Mixed Nuts in action.

Mixed Nuts in action.

I love that machine.

Last year, one of the things that disappointed B and me was that we’d missed out on cannons. Not this year! And it was extra-special:

Image shows a group of people getting ready to fire black powder guns. To the far right, there is a man dressed as a pirate with red-striped socks. He looks like Jamie Hyneman from Mythbusters. There's a finger pointing to him and a text box that says, "Pirate Jamie Hyneman." To his left is a gallant-looking pirate who seems to be taking a shallow bow beside a small canon. A thought bubble says, "Time for me aaarghncore." In the center bottom of the photo, a blonde girl with a crown is visible. Her thought bubble says, "It's good to be the queen...." To her left is a spectator in an ornate pirate outfit. He looks like Baron Munchausen from Terry Gilliam's Adventures of Baron Munchausen. The text box beside him says, "Totally Baron Munchausen."

We had many illustrious personages present.

You have absolutely no idea how much I love that photo. And I couldn’t even see what I was photographing. There were tall people in front of me, and I could only hold the camera above my head, click, and hope. We got lots of hawt black powder action, and you shall have video of it as well.

I didn’t get many good photos of the pumpkins hurlers in action – my timing was teh suck. But here’s a nice tableau with all the various machines for ye.

Image shows a line of trebuchets and onagers in order of descending size.

The contenders.

There weren’t many this year. What this means is, if you are at all interested in hurling pumpkins to their death with garage-built siege engines, you should build one this winter and have it ready by next fall. I WANT MOAR PUNKIN CHUNKIN ACTION!!

There were people in armor bashing each other heartily, as I so fondly remember from days spent with SCA members. No, the other SCA. The one that includes kilts, drinking, and people bashing each other with fake weapons. I am very happy with this shot of them:

Image shows two men in silver suits of armor. One has just thunked the other mightily, and the thunked one is in midair, falling.

I smite thee!

Alas, my zoom function was being a bugger, so there’s no larger image – I had to crop to achieve. But ’tis awesome.

Image shows same knights on the ground, one atop the other. The one on top has a text bubble saying, "And stay down." The one on bottom has a text bubble saying, "Verily, Ow."

Le aftermath.

I’ve got many lovely horse pics for ya, most of which I’ll post with the bit o’ video. But I wanted an iconic shot of the knight on horseback with volcano in the background, and this one is it:

Image shows a knight on a gray horse, holding a lance. The horse is in mid-whirl toward Mount Baker in the background, a green blanket with a black edge flaring around its rump. The knight holds a spear. It is very majestic.

Knight, steed, volcano.

That right there is all I’d hoped for. Marvelous!

Having said hello to our own Trebuchet, acquired some of the best jerky in the Pacific Northwest, snagged fresh-popped kettle corn, and seen a bunch of awesome stuff (including small children wailing on each other with foam swords, always awesome), plus all of the other action, and now suffering from heatstroke, B and I took our leave. Seriously, it was bloody hot. My legs felt like some evil child was aiming the sun at them with a huge magnifying glass. Since we hadn’t thought to bring sunscreen, we had to leave earlier than we might have wished. We headed back to B’s, where we watched the new all-women Ultimate Fighter, and I buggered off before Doctor Who, because I’ve not finished Series 7 yet because I’m having a hard time with the idea of saying goodbye to Amy and Rory, to say nothing of Eleven, but I’ll get there eventually.

I rounded out a relaxing day by reading people bashing Twilight and eating jerky. Seriously, people, if you’re a carnivore, order some of this. It is amazing, and they have many varieties, including kangaroo, which I may someday be brave enough to try. I hear the gator and the wild boar are also amazing. B will report back on the salmon soon, but I’m pretty sure it will make your mouth go into delighted spasms. I will certainly be getting more if Starspider takes me to the faire today. If you happen to be there, I’ll be the one in the olive green expedition hat with a mouth full of beef jerky. Come say howdy!

“Pew! Pew!” Adorable Woodland Critters Revealed

A rousing round of applause, please, for our own Onamission5, who identified our calling critters. Yep, them’s definitely Douglas Squirrels!

Image shows a small, gray-backed squirrel with a yellow-orange belly, clinging to a tree.

One of the Douglas Squirrels that was making so much racket.

And for once, I’m not squeeing all over an invasive species! These are Pacific Northwest natives. John Muir described them perfectly:

THE Douglas Squirrel is by far the most interesting and influential of the California sciuridæ, surpassing every other species in force of character, numbers, and extent of range, and in the amount of influence he brings to bear upon the health and distribution of the vast forests he inhabits.

Go where you will throughout the noble woods of the Sierra Nevada, among the giant pines and spruces of the lower zones, up through the towering Silver Firs to the storm-bent thickets of the summit peaks, you everywhere find this little squirrel the master-existence. Though only a few inches long, so intense is his fiery vigor and restlessness, he stirs every grove with wild life, and makes himself more important than even the huge bears that shuffle through the tangled underbrush beneath him. Every wind is fretted by his voice, almost every bole and branch feels the sting of his sharp feet. How much the growth of the trees is stimulated by this means it is not easy to learn, but his action in manipulating their seeds is more appreciable. Nature has made him master forester and committed most of her coniferous crops to his paws. Probably over fifty per cent. of all the cones ripened on the Sierra are cut off and handled by the Douglas alone, and of those of the Big Trees perhaps ninety per cent. pass through his hands: the greater portion is of course stored away for food to last during the winter and spring, but some of them are tucked separately into loosely covered holes, where some of the seeds germinate and become trees. But the Sierra is only one of the many provinces over which he holds sway, for his dominion extends over all the Redwood Belt of the Coast Mountains, and far northward throughout the majestic forests of Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. I make haste to mention these facts, to show upon how substantial a foundation the importance I ascribe to him rests.

[snip]

From the nose to the root of the tail he measures about eight inches; and his tail, which he so effectively uses in interpreting his feelings, is about six inches in length. He wears dark bluish-gray over the back and half-way down the sides, bright buff on the belly, with a stripe of dark gray, nearly black, separating the upper and under colors; this dividing stripe, however, is not very sharply defined. He has long black whiskers, which gives him a rather fierce look when observed closely, strong claws, sharp as fish-hooks, and the brightest of bright eyes, full of telling speculation.

Yup. That’s our little fellas!

Here’s the video of one of our very own callers: brace yourselves for the adorableness as it tells all and sundry that this is its tree, thankeeverymuch, and no one is allowed to encroach.

And for more charming Douglas Squirrel action, plus a look at how the little ones battle:

Dawwww.