Bachmann’s Battle Of The Bulb

Watching the GOP debate with Cuttleson… biting our tongues because we have a guest here, a Republican relative. If I am not mistaken, Bachmann just touted her work on the Light Bulb Freedom Of Choice Bill.

Michele Bachman. The gift that keeps on… something…

Grab your pitchforks! Grab your torches!
Cos it’s time to join the fight!
Take up arms against Big Government;
They want to take your right
To illuminate your castle
With an incandescent light—
All-American—designed by Thomas Edison!

We should act as burning beacons
Blazing bravely through the night
Never hid beneath a bushel
But held proudly, shining bright!
So the world can see our power
And can tremble at our might—
It’s our duty to refuse to take our medicine!

So we’ll rally ‘round the bulb, then,
We’ll rally ‘round the bulb
The incandescent symbol of our freedom
Watt for watt, they’re not as bright;
They produce more heat than light
They’re just like us—and that is why we need ‘em!

It’s not just about a light bulb
No, it represents much more
It’s a symbol of our freedom
And it’s why we went to war!
Cos the right to use more energy
Is what we’re fighting for—
This is principled and righteous, not a rant

So we’ll hoard them while they’re legal
Yes, we’ll empty out the store
When electric rates start climbing
We can blame it on Al Gore
We’ll pretend this is an issue
That affects us to our core
But it’s mostly cos Obama says we can’t

So we’ll rally ‘round the bulb, then,
We’ll rally ‘round the bulb
We never will give up our incandescents!
Though it’s such a small demand
We’ll choose here to make our stand
The battle plan of whining adolescents!

Yes we’ll rally ‘round the bulb, then,
We’ll rally ‘round the bulb
The incandescent symbol of our freedom
Watt for watt, they’re not as bright;
They produce more heat than light
They’re just like us—and that is why we need ‘em!

A Snail’s Pace

Pokily, hokily,
Freshwater Gastropods
Put away proteins
In bits of their shell

“Fossil opercula
Geochronology”
Measures the proteins to
See what they tell

From the University of York (and in Nature), a cool story with a little help from my cousins the gastropods. As snails grow, they tuck away proteins in their opercula–the hinge/trapdoor deally that they hide behind when they hide in their shells. Turns out, these proteins are protected from the elements by calcium carbonate crystals, in what one of the developers of the technique (Dr. Kirsty Penkman) calls “a protein time capsule”.

Without external interference, what remains is internal degradation of the proteins, the extent of which tells how old the sample is, and in greater detail than with previous methods.

So it’s a cleaner sample than previous methods; the snails are commonly found worldwide; the method is highly reliable.

Win.

Double Standards

I’ve examined evolution, and I think I understand
Though the evidence is shaky, still I think the theory’s grand
But it’s only just a theory, so it’s only just a start
And an open-minded person should try picking it apart.
No belief without a reason! Give me proof of what you claim!
And the more I look, the more I see the evidence is lame!
When considering a tangled bank, I choose to see God’s Laws
And the reason I believe it? Just because.

Charles Darwin drew a picture of an ever-branching tree
From the earliest of creatures all the way to you and me
Other limbs produced the fishes, beetles, lizards, monkeys, ants,
Paramecia, bacteria, creationists and plants;
He supported it with evidence of every kind he could
Which I’ve critically examined, as a thinking person should;
Now I know that he’s mistaken in the picture that he draws
And the reason I believe it? Just because.

If you analyze it critically, as science says we must
You’ll find laws of physics broken, so the theory is a bust:
The second thermo-something law is busted into pieces
By the fact that evolution means that entropy decreases!
And random changes couldn’t make the creatures that we find,
So the evidence is clear, that we cannot be un-designed!
With castles out of playing-cards and armies made of straws
There’s the reason I believe it: Just because.

Now, with Darwin and his evolution clearly in the tank
There is only one alternative, if I am to be frank;
That’s the theory found in Genesis, the Holy Word of God,
And with natural selection out, creation gets the nod.
But we can’t be disrespectful to our deeply held belief,
So our critical examination, this time, must be brief
There’s no clothing on this emperor, not even filmy gauze—
But the reason I believe it? Just because.

Sure, the logic may be iffy, and the evidence is slim—
Who created the creator? And then, who created him?
Why the Genesis creation? Why not something else instead?
Can we guarantee the story is exactly what God said?
Is it literal or metaphor, or maybe outright fiction?
What’s the proper course of action when we find a contradiction?
I’m ignoring any nagging doubt within me where it gnaws
And the reason I believe it? Just because.

If I’m right, I go to heaven, which I’d really like to do
But I’ll go to hell for sure if I suspect that it’s untrue
It’s a simple little wager, there’s no reason to think twice:
You get punished if you’re naughty, you get presents if you’re nice
From the guy who watches all of us, from there behind his beard
(And who cares if it’s millennia since last time he appeared?)
And so, even if it’s really just a grown-up’s Santa Claus
Well, the reason I believe it? Just because.

(nearly time to ease off the gas, and stop posting old stuff. There’s enough up here now that folks ought to get the idea. I’ve still got hundreds, but I won’t put you through that.)

Certum Est, Quia Impossibile

I had a dream about this one the other day: I was “Uncle Cuttlefish”, singing this song to a group of young campers, who joined in on the “Certum est” parts. One of the campers, little Suzie, explained about the bit in Latin, which translates to “it is certain, because it is impossible”, a doctrine of the tremendous importance of faith. Faith is a virtue–the more impossible a thing is, the more important it is that you believe it. (In the dream, another camper brought up the fact that creationists often say “it takes more faith to believe in evolution than in god”, and was immediately escorted away from the campfire song circle.) Yes, I have weird dreams. I almost never remember them… this may be the reason.

The melody I use for it is very close to G&S’s “Tit-Willow”. If you are not familiar with it, this version skips a verse, but the performance more than makes up for it.

You have to admit, this sounds pretty far-fetched
Certum est, quia impossibile
But my mem-o-ry has it indelibly etched
Certum est, quia impossibile
There once was a garden, with Adam and Eve
Along came a serpent, with plans to deceive—
What part of this tale am I s’posed to believe?
Certum est, quia impossibile

Lot’s Wife was transformed to a pillar of salt
Certum est, quia impossibile
The bible implies she herself was at fault
Certum est, quia impossibile
The sinning in Sodom, it made the Lord sore-eyed
She didn’t obey; now she’s sodium chloride—
A message which all of the “sinners of yore” eyed
Certum est, quia impossibile

Some children once pestered a man with no hair
Certum est, quia impossibile
Who prayed for revenge, and so God sent two bears
Certum est, quia impossibile
Which mauled all the kids in a terrible fight
And killed every one, with a blow or a bite,
So that next time, the children will act more polite
Certum est, quia impossibile

Then God gave us Jesus, to die for our sins
Certum est, quia impossibile
To re-write the books, so a new age begins
Certum est, quia impossibile
And Jesus was tortured and nailed to a cross
To render us clean, through his terrible loss
(Or maybe his dad was just showing who’s boss)
Certum est, quia impossibile

And ever since then, why, the message has spread
Certum est, quia impossibile
That mankind will live, because Jesus was dead
Certum est, quia impossibile
I have to believe them, they urge and implore,
For ethics, for morals, for peace evermore…
Then battle each other, in bloodthirsty war
Certum est, quia impossibile

It’s a nice simple form, in 3/4 time; feel free to add your own verses! And please, sing it around campfires, and say hi to little Suzie if you see her.

Quirk, Part 3

Gilbert & Sussivan again– the Nightmare Song, from Iolanthe.  Not exactly, but inspired by.  That, and the nightmare we know as the internet.

In the near-recent past
If your hatred was vast
You could sit there and plot in your basement
You were perfectly free
Where nobody could see
You, and ask what the look on your face meant.
You would sit there and stew
As you muddled things through
And get caught up in impotent rages
You could hiss, you could vent;
Though it’s not their intent,
Still, basements make pretty good cages
You could keep to yourself
As you fill up your shelf
With the books that would fuel your conspiracy
But you’re only one man
And your beautiful plan
You keep hidden so no one will hear or see
But technology changed
So the warped and deranged
With a desktop computer and modem
Could now easily find
Those who write the same kind
Of conspiracy screeds and upload ’em
And they soon became lords
Of their bulletin boards
Or their chatrooms or newsgroups or forums
Where they found one another
And brother to brother
They gathered together in quorums
Now these like-minded chaps
With their keyboards in laps
Found a comfort, a sort of community
When they set to their tasks
Anonymity masks
Them, and blather they will, with impunity
Their connection is fast
So their knowledge is vast
In the internet age, they’re in heaven
With definitive proof
Of the moon-landing spoof
And how Bush was behind 9/11
Or how giving vaccines
To the populace, means
That the government’s playing the villain
They’re in league with Big Pharma,
So sound the alarm, a
Concern since they “found” penicillin
And the Kennedy plot
With a gunman who shot,
In a story that’s kept from the masses
Just a C.I.A. lackey
They think it was Jackie,
Who’s free now to marry Onassis
And the people all laughed
When an alien craft
Was a weather balloon, though a nifty one
But a cover-up works
Now they look like they’re jerks
When they talk about area fifty-one
But this corkscrewing ride
Has a sinister side
When the groups may be formed around hatred
Where their heads are all filled
With a view that’s distilled
Cos they read all the stuff that their mate read
Now there’s one group of hacks
Who are blaming the blacks
For the changes they see in society
While another sees gays
And their sodomite ways
As a blow to the nation’s propriety
Yet another will frown
If a person is brown
Whether wetback or Ay-rab, you lose
And additional groups
Hate the government’s troops
Or the faithful old standby, the Jews.
Now you’ve written a site
Where you post what you write
Of the citizenship of Obama
And there’s hate in your views
And the language you use
You would never repeat to your mamma
You are joined by your friends
And the fun never ends
As you’re lost in the thrill of debating
You’re exchanging your views
And deciding on who’s
Is the group most deserving of hating
If you needed a clue
I could point back to you
As I’m reaching the end of this ditty
I’ll admit the appeal,
But the way that I feel?
It’s not so much hatred… as pity.

For some reason, I feel compelled to link to this post, a call for the institutionalization of my greatest fan–the one person who has visited my site more than any other, and has left more comments than any other. No one is more deserving.

Mighty Mouse!

Eekily, Squeakily
M. m. domesticus
Mates with its cousin,
Algerian mouse—

Gains a resistance to
Anticoagulants—
Most of the poisons you’d
Use in your house

If you introduce a selection pressure on a population, you’ll get evolution (unless you get extinction). Via the Beeb, a story on mouse evolution in response to our selection pressure, poison. In particular anticoagulant rodenticides, which cause death through massive internal bleeding (which is why you don’t want your pets getting into the mouse traps). A mouse with a resistance to such poisons would have a decided advantage, in an environment where such poisons are present.

In this case, house mice (Mus musculus domesticus) bred with Algerian mice (M spretus), and as you might expect from inter-species mating, most of their offspring were sterile. As a general rule, mating outside your species is not terribly adaptive. All other things equal, it is not a good reproductive strategy. Ah, but with a selection pressure like anticoagulant poisons in the environment, the few fertile hybrids were at a selective advantage over their purebred peers. Most of the hybrids, sterile, died without reproducing; the few fertile ones survived and reproduced; this is the very engine of natural selection (well, one path).

The fascinating part about this, to me, is the clear demonstration of the effect of specific environment. If not for the pressure of rodenticides, the hybridization strategy would be at a strong disadvantage, given that the majority of the offspring are sterile. But a particular environment can and does make a strategy useful where it otherwise would not be. This happens, of course, in other versions of selection as well, such as operant learning and cultural change.

A behavior that is, on the face of it, self-destructive–like self-injurious behavior–can be used in an institutional setting to avoid doing work, or to manipulate caregivers into giving attention (it is very difficult to ignore someone hitting or biting him/herself). This can be tremendously adaptive, in the right environment.

An evolutionary model reminds us that all situations are not created equal, and that a strategy that has been shown to work in one situation cannot be expected to work in all. Of course, in this model we only find out what works by seeing everything that doesn’t work… well, die. It’s not an efficient or humane strategy. And it sure as hell doesn’t look intelligently designed.

But in its way, isn’t it just beautiful?

Dragon Food

“A blog is like a dragon. You have to feed it all the time and sometimes you get burned”
unattributed quote, collected here by Scicurious. (if you know who, let me know.)

If you want to own a dragon, there’s some things you ought to know
Though they’re cute when really tiny, if you feed them, they will grow—
And it’s fun to feed a dragon—well, it’s really fun at first,
Till you’re bleeding from the bite-marks and the blisters that have burst!
Finding food, at first, is simple, cos it’s laying all around,
And a dragon, when it’s little, eats whatever you have found.
As the months and years continue, dragon-feeding can get tricky,
As it’s eaten all the easy finds and now is getting picky
But you’ve got to feed the dragon, though it’s taking all your time
(And it really doesn’t help, should you decide to feed it rhyme)
All the dragon owners tell you, cos it’s something that they’ve learned,
That no matter how you feed it, there are times that you’ll get burned.

If you see I’ve written something, and you really wonder why…
Well, I have to feed the dragon, or it’s gonna up and die.

*****

As you might ascertain, I woke up this morning with writer’s block. This one is from the old digs.

Quirk, Part 2

More W.S.Gilbert. A comment on, if memory serves, the movie “expelled”, or a related issue.

I am the very model of a devious creationist
I’ve made a film that’s best described as stolen-animationist
I know the use of rhetoric when facts are unavailable
To render the impossible into the unassailable

I’m very well acquainted, too, with data manufacturing
I’ll claim I stand on solid granite even as it’s fracturing
I document complexity, like when it’s irreducible…
And think my movie’s in the league of Arthur Miller’s Crucible

And think my movie’s in the league of Arthur Miller’s Crucible
And think my movie’s in the league of Arthur Miller’s Crucible
And think my movie’s in the league of Arthur Miller’s Crucible

I’m very good at lying, both the verbal and statistical—
Like Darwin in his later years, I’m openly theistical
In short, you might describe me as a mental masturbationist
I am the very model of a devious creationist

In short, you might describe him as a mental masturbationist
He is the very model of a devious creationist

My evidence, in volumes that would baffle a librarian
Is not so much orthogonal as utterly contrarian
Presented with a problem like the claw of a Deinonychus
I pause for just a moment, then it’s “Dammit, bring it on!” I cuss

My scientific colleagues have been banned from Universities
Expecting them to publish was just one of their adversities
They’ve parried the attacks of retroviruses endogenous
Maintaining all the while that Darwinians are dodgin’ us

Maintaining all the while that Darwinians are dodgin’ us
Maintaining all the while that Darwinians are dodgin’ us
Maintaining all the while that Darwinians are dodgin’ us

My evidence is solid as a fossil of triceratops
Presented with the humor of a monologue of Carrot Top’s
In short, you might describe me as a mental masturbationist
I am the very model of a devious creationist

In short, you might describe him as a mental masturbationist
He is the very model of a devious creationist

In fact, when I know what is meant by “cinemas” and “enemas”
When I can tell by sight the harmless serpent from the venomous
And claim I found the evidence in chapter one of Genesis
You’ll see, compared to Darwinists, which one of us the menace is

When I have crack’d a book on Evo-Devo or Biology
Enough to understand instead of mutter simply “Golly gee!”
And understand my argument is simply false dichotomy
You’ll say that this creationist does not deserve lobotomy

You’ll say that this creationist does not deserve lobotomy
You’ll say that this creationist does not deserve lobotomy
You’ll say that this creationist does not deserve lobotomy

For the science that I know was not updated for millennia
Not since the latest virgin birth, or genesis parthenia
But still, you might describe me as a mental masturbationist
I am the very model of a devious creationist

But still, you might describe him as a mental masturbationist
He is the very model of a devious creationist