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!

One of the wonderful things about babies
Is counting each finger and toe,
And seeing the miniature fingerprint whorls—
Each one is unique, as you know.
The joy’s universal, or so I would hope;
I don’t think I need to explain.
But no one expects to find fingers or toes
On a foot growing in your kid’s brain!

But three-day-old Sam is a miracle baby;
Mom sees him smile and laugh—
He’s cuter than any one kid ought to be;
He’s cute as a kid and a half!
His story, first told to a small, local paper
Has now hit the public arena;
They don’t say they’re looking for names for the foot
But the natural choice is “Athena”

I noticed something while grading yesterday–a student had found that our class topic had presented some challenges to his belief system. Our topic often does that. He decided to write his final paper on those challenges, and to see whether the two positions might be made more compatible. (Of course, the possibility that one or the other was simply wrong did not make an appearance in his paper.) He examined the evidence to see why people would believe our topic, but apparently did not feel that he had to make any similar justification for his own belief, beyond “I believe in God”. I must admit, I have to wonder a bit about the strength of a belief that is never subjected to inquiry. I would love to see the same amount of work put into the other half of his paper, the one that should begin “I believe in God, for the following reasons…” But I suspect I know the answer.

This verse is not about him.

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.

My apologies in advance…

There’s a special place in Heaven
(‘cept it doesn’t quite exist)
For the special, special people
Like the first I ever kissed
Or the ones who always volunteer
For nasty, smelly work,
Or who yield the proper right-of-way
And not just be a jerk
There’s a special place for people
Who repair the power wires
(So that blogger poets now can post
Instead of tending fires)
But the finest place in Heaven,
If you’d like to take a look,
Is reserved for all the people
Who decide to buy my book.

Ha! Didn’t quite expect that ending, did you? This is just a little reminder—the turnaround time was really fast when I ordered mine, so my guess is there is still time before cephalopodmas to order them to tuck into stockings, g-strings, and the like. Or, if you prefer, just put it on your list, so that somebody who loves you very much can express her or his love in the way that only a paperback volume of rather odd verse can. And remember—if you buy it with your Solstice gift money, you will have the Evolutionary Biology Valentine’s Day Poem in your hot little hands in plenty of time to be ready to serenade that special someone who cuts quite a striking figure in a white lab coat.

It’s been four days, so far, without power
And our moods are still cheerful, not dour
But this powerless stint
Makes my co-workers hint
That I’m welcome to borrow their shower!

(the truth is, our wood stove heats water
To the point where it couldn’t be hotter
So despite lacking power
“Have ladle, will shower”
Say father and mother and daughter)

One of the more frustrating aspects of blogging is that you can’t do it when the power is out. And the power is out in a six-state region right now. Not a huge deal–just get out the candles and oil lamps, light the wood stove, and you’re good to go. Or to stay, as the case may be. I still don’t have power, actually. (How am I posting? Magic.)

So once it gets dark (shortly after 4 PM, actually), there is a bit less that one can do. Our oil lamp is plenty bright enough to read by, but all the reading I had planned to do (ok, technically you might call it grading, or marking, depending on your regional dialect) is on my computer–or rather, on my students’ computers, to be turned in online sometime between when the power went out 2 days ago and last night. So I was without a lot of what I had planned to read, and what I *wanted* to read was in my office. Oh well.

Once it gets even darker, the most fun is to be had with the AM radio. I was pulling in at least 4 languages (one I did not recognize, but also French, Spanish, and of course American), and everything from New York City to Quebec. Hockey games, basketball, Billo’s replacement, local talkers who think the way to make it big is by pretending to be conservative, irate, and obnoxious… and of course, religious stations. Once again, I was reminded that there is a war on christmas going on. Without a trace of the merest hint of an inkling of a nod toward the pagan origins of a solstice celebration, I was chastised to remember the true meaning of christmas… excuse me, the True Meaning of Christmas.

So I am taking it on myself again to fire another salvo for the side of the righteous (or the rational) in the war. Dammit, I will not celebrate the True Meaning of Christmas, because I prefer the true meaning of christmas–this season, to me, is a time of love, of giving, of caring… and as an atheist, I will cruelly and heartlessly love my neighbors, support them in these trying times, and genuinely care, all without so much as a mention of the birth of god’s chosen human sacrifice.

This time, a love song. I was trying to write something else, when I realized I had just written the intro to a song I had had kicking around for some time. This is a real song, and a beautiful one if I say so myself, in 3/4 time (except the intro/outro which are in 4/4); I have chords and melody for it and everything, except that I don’t have the ability to write music for posting here. Sorry. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

(intro)
The stories told this time of year
To bring us hope, or joy, or cheer—
Who cares if, really, none of them are true?
The season brings the shortest days
And with the sunlight’s dying rays
The longest nights, that I can spend… with you.

(actual song)
Christmas is the time when I can say to you “I love you”
Kiss you if the mistletoe is hanging right above you
All through the year,
my friend we’ve grown near
And now when I see you this Christmas, it’s clear

(chorus)
I want to be more than friends this Christmas
I want to be closer than ever before
I want to be more than friends this Christmas
That’s what this Christmas is for.

Christmas is the time to cuddle up beside the fire
Feel the kind of love that only Christmas can inspire
Outside there’s snow,
but in here, a glow
And I’m warm when I’m with you, and that’s how I know:

chorus

Christmas is the time to hear the carols sung so sweetly
Let the magic of the season fill your heart completely
Love is brand new,
and wishes come true
I’ve just one wish this Christmas, and that wish is you:

chorus

Christmas is the time to walk the snowy world together
Face the coming year as boldly as we face the weather
Come and be strong
and join in my song
And the love that is Christmas can last the year long

chorus

(outro)
The stories told this time of year
To bring us hope, or joy, or cheer—
Who cares if, really, none of them are true?
The season brings the shortest days
And with the sunlight’s dying rays
The longest nights, that I can spend… with you.

In the shadow of Mt. Olympus is Dion, the site of … well, of a great many ruins, now. Once, the site of temples, steam baths, an amphitheater, shops, houses, a thriving and important community, where the religious sanctuary was the center of everything. Later, because it had a constant supply of spring water, fed by the slopes of Olympus, both Philip of Macedonia and his son Alexander (later, Alexander the Great) housed and trained troops here. One can see places where they tore down buildings, then used the columns as recycled building material for walls and roads. The stone roads have ruts worn in them from chariots and carts; the place feels every bit of its history.

On my visit here, I probably took 200 photos–the site is large and diverse enough that it really looks as if I had visited three or four separate places. The shots here are from the Sanctuary of Isis, once a place of worship, now a place of frogs, fish, and turtles.

Once there was a temple here
With marble columns gleaming white
Once the gods themselves looked down
Upon these altars with delight.
Olympus climbs into the clouds
And mortals look up from below—
The hidden summit must have gods,
We do not just believe—we know.

But gods, it seems, are mortal too
And gods must die, as must we all
And temples, without gods, decay;
Abandoned columns soon will fall.
The people leave; the waters rise;
What was a marble floor, now grass;
The sunken statuary gaze,
And dumbly watch millennia pass.

Once the gods were worshipped here
Today the rulers here, the frogs
Control the fate of damsel-flies;
Athena’s columns for their logs.
The gods, it seems, cannot stop time
And Zeus himself must lose his crown
The land gives way to fish and frogs…
And turtles all the way down.

That sentence, or its functional equivalent, was in a Tarzan book. I read them voraciously, some 30+ years ago. Good moral advice; good stories; good skepticism of motives. In this case, the person who was to be rhymed was named Bubanovitch, if memory and spelling serve.

The rhyme today comes from Illinois. Governor Blagojevich is in hot water of his own cooking.

Gov. Rod R. Blagojevich of Illinois was arrested by federal authorities on Tuesday morning and charged with corruption, including an allegation that he conspired to effectively sell President-elect Barack Obama’s seat in the United States Senate to the highest bidder.

His backup plan was to take the seat himself.

“If I don’t get what I want and I’m not satisfied with it, then I’ll just take the Senate seat myself,” the governor said in recorded conversation, prosecutors said.

A 76-page affidavit from the United States Attorney’s office in the Northern District of Illinois says Mr. Blagojevich (pronounced bluh-GOY-uh-vich) was heard on wiretaps over the last month planning to “sell or trade Illinois’ United States Senate seat vacated by Pres-elect Barack Obama for financial and personal benefits for himself and his wife.”

Greedy Bastard.

That sonovabitch Blagojevich
Had thought he’d found the perfect pitch
He thought he’d sell a precious toy
But ran into a little glitch

The Guv’ner is a naughty boy—
He puts the “ill” in Illinois
He looked for payment, ere he’d choose
A worthy person to employ

But now his tale has hit the news
And no one wants to share his shoes
It’s called a “spree”; it’s a “new low”
Blagojevich now sings the blues

He had the power to bestow
The Senate seat, so dontcha know
Blagojevich, that sonovabitch
Was holding out for quid pro quo.