It has been raining here for roughly forty days and nights; I am partway through several books and several chores; Cuttledaughter is a happy graduate and off having fun; it must be time to collect the detritus, flotsam and jetsam of the past couple of weeks’ worth of comments.

I begin with one that took no thought whatsoever on my part; all I did was take PZ’s post and translate it to cuttlefish:

Like shooting flies with howitzers
Or fighting ants with mines
John Lynch will take his intellect
And decimate Ben Stein’s.

The program claims the topic
Will be “Why Ben Stein Is Wrong”.
Condensed, of course–the unabridged
Is several days too long.

No matter how it’s edited,
I have a nagging hunch,
It’s going to be a long one, so
You’d better pack a lunch.

(Ok, I’ve said what PZ said
And took so little time–
I wonder–how come Myers never
Writes his posts in rhyme?)

Speaking of cuttlefish, Cuttleson just came back from a visit to the semi-local aquarium; he spoke of seeing a 600-pound turtle, of a huge octopus that “looked like he kept turning inside out”… and his favorites, the cuttlefish. And no, he does not know I write this. I’m so proud… I’d give him an award, if I could…

Ok, maybe not a Templeton award:

Stealthily, wealthily,
Billionaire Templeton
Offers his money, with
This little hedge:

Topics appear to be
Multidimensional
Variants on the
Creationist wedge.

Those Templetonians… I wish I had the dilemma of choosing between accepting their tons of money or being a good cuttlefish. I could use the money. (I am reminded a bit of Romeo & Juliet–V.i.78-79; see if you can guess the lines before you look them up.) Oh, well. At least others are in a position to question and refuse such generosity:

The goal of that Templeton chap
Was to re-write the scientists’ map;
Though they thought it seemed odd,
He would print “Heere be Godde”
Where cartographers once left a gap.

Some scientists, sensing a trap,
Caused a ruckus, or maybe a flap
When they turned down his money
And said it smell’d funny
As if it were printed with crap!

Some others jumped right in his lap
Took his money in less than a snap
So the folks in the first
Group, expecting the worst,
Advised they be tested for clap.

See, there I am disobeying my rules about limericks, too. Oh, well. Could be worse. At least I was not off hiking the Appalachian Trail:

Nothing could be keener than to be in Argentina in the morning.
No one could be sweeter than my little senorita in the morning
When I say I’m camping
The Appalachian trail
Honestly, I’m tramping
With some Argentina tail
Any politician will be hungry for some fishin’ in the morning
Lordy, she’s appealing, and my rod could have her reeling in the morning
If I had Aladdin’s lamp for only a day
I’d make a wish and here’s what I’d say
Nothing could be keener than to be in Argentina in the morning!

See, I’d never be able to pull off a Sanford; I am not nearly so technologically savvy. I would never be able to lose my entire staff for a whole weekend (oh, wait–no staff); hell, I can’t even figure out having to register to comment at a site:

User registration
Only leads me to frustration–
Though I try to do it properly, I always mess it up.
So I’ll probably just lurk here
While you people go to work here
And while PZ finds some German beer to overflow his cup.
So I guess I’ll read the greetings
Posted from the Lindau Meetings
Though it seems to me my invitation must have gotten lost
I’d report in rhyme and meter
With my German co-host Dieter
But apparently the Germans know… I ain’t no Robert Frost.

Lastly… a comment on an unconventional but biblical approach to overpopulation:

With zero reproduction rate, and population static,
There are no ills of over-use; it’s really quite pragmatic!
A self-sufficient microcosm, Eden was sustainable–
I don’t know why you think this situation’s unexplainable.

But since Eve bit the apple, well, we’ve reproduced like rabbits,
And the world has suffered greatly from our numbers and our habits;
No more a balanced system that could just as well be sealed,
As the writer of your email has so cogently revealed.

A Malthusian catastrophe could surely be prevented
If with zero population growth we’d only been contented;
The population problem is tremendous and complex,
And it’s all because, in Eden, we decided to have sex.

Not a big post–I composed this as a simple comment on Pharyngula, but it got a bit big, so I thought I’d post it here, too.

Our free will, or its illusion,
Is the source of much confusion;
We make choices all the time, but can we say that they are free?
Mind and body in cohesion
Make us think we are Cartesian,
But the whole of modern science makes me want to disagree!
A causal mind’s existence,
Though a meme of some persistence,
Has the weight of long tradition, but the evidence is slim.
Our environment controls us;
Though Cartesian thought consoles us,
The truth is, we’re reactive, and we never act on whim.
Even my creative rhyming
Is controlled by sound and timing
And a history of consequences leading to this end;
Rhymes appear as chosen freely,
When the truth is different, really—
There are multiple parameters to which I must attend!

(Parenthetically, I mention
That “free will” will draw attention
To the action and its consequence, but little to its cause;
The resulting shift of focus
Makes it seem like hocus-pocus;
Through a bit of misdirection, it appears we break the laws!)

Let’s hoist and let the flag unfrrl:
Go vote! Go vote! For ScienceGrrl!*

The blogosphere’s most precious prrl:
Go vote! Go vote! For ScienceGrrl!

I really think it would be nice
To send her to the cold and ice—
So take my Cuttlefish advice
And vote! (Chicago, you vote twice.)

So send her where the cold winds swrrl:
Go vote! Go vote! For ScienceGrrl!

Yes you! Come on, and give it a whrrl:
Go vote! Go vote! For ScienceGrrl!

(Much more of this, and I could hrrl—
I’ll stop. You vote for ScienceGrrl!)

More info here.

*ok, it’s actually “GrrlScientist”, but you try rhyming that.

Chad Orzel and I have some pretty serious differences when it comes to how and why we write. For one thing, he has help. His dog, Emmy, is an important part of his writing team. My dog is, thus far, no help at all.

Part of it is our respective subject matter. Orzel writes about quantum physics, and by a stroke of fate, it turns out that dogs have a bit of a natural advantage there. Don’t ask me, ask him. (seriously, check out that interview!) Me, I write commentary, often satirical, in verse. Dogs don’t do verse. Dogs are notoriously bad at rhyming, and have no sense of meter at all. So right there, Orzel has an unnatural advantage.

Another difference is editing. Orzel actually takes the time to write, edit, rewrite, re-edit, and make sure he says exactly what he wants to. As such, over 2 years has passed between the writing of “Bunnies made of cheese” and the (not quite yet) publication of the actual book that grew from that seed. Me, if I take an extra hour to look for typos, I may miss the chance on making a timely comment. Almost everything that I post is essentially a first draft, and there is rarely motivation to go back and fine-tune (exception: I am re-doing my book, and taking the time to make a few changes and clean up categories, etc. But that is for another time).

Indeed, my post this time is so timely, it actually precedes its cause! Which actually brings up another difference, although I am not certain what to call it. I write about the real world. Orzel writes about the real world. In his real world, things can meaningfully pop in and out of existence; in mine, if you make such claims people start edging away nervously and trying to remember the number of the proper authorities (1-800-LUNATIC, perhaps [ok, now I wonder who has that number]). Causation takes a holiday in Orzel’s real world, or maybe it just seems that way to me because of my limited understanding. My dog says he will explain it to me some day.

So, as I was saying, this post actually precedes its cause. This post is a book review of a book (How to teach physics to your dog) that is not yet published, and which I have not yet seen. My dog tells me that in another alternate universe I may have already read it, but that does not help here. I submit it in hopes of actually winning a copy of the book which I can then read to see how well it matches my review. I suspect that, having read it, I will need to revise and edit my review, which I can only assume will lead to the publication of another book by Orzel, and perhaps lead to the collapse of the Cuttlefish wave form.

So here goes.

One necessity of teaching: a facility for reaching
Through the mass of preconceptions that can settle like a fog,
And may block new information, or bring misinterpretation;
There’s a remedy for some of this: try thinking like a dog!
That’s the premise of the method that Professor Orzel plied
With the Queen of Niskayuna by his side!

She told him of the habits of the Niskayuna rabbits
How they sometimes seemed to vanish in the Niskayuna air.
It would help her with her chases if she occupied two places
And could trap the little bunnies as they’re running to their lair.
Oh, the yummy little bunnies would have nowhere left to hide
If the Queen of Niskayuna could divide!

“Spooky barking at a distance” clearly needed her assistance,
So they wrangled with entanglement and tackled it with ease;
She learned how to beam a bunny, which to humans may sound funny
But to dogs it’s just as plausible as bunnies made of cheese.
There are laws of Quantum Physics—and they will not be denied—
Which the Queen of Niskayuna takes in stride.

Here the uses and mis-uses (and occasional abuses)
Quantum Physics has been saddled with, are rendered clear for you,
With occasional referrals to the Niskayuna squirrels
(Who are never to be trusted, and are evil through and through).
So begin the thrilling journey that these essays will provide
With the Queen of Niskayuna as your guide!

(I am saddened to discover it’s not Emmy on the cover
But some fancy dog professional who likes to cock his head.
He may look all nice and quizzical, But Emmy’s quantum-physical,
Although, perhaps, as royalty, she’s not one to be led.
Though the picture on the cover she was callously denied,
It’s the Queen of Niskayuna who’s inside!)

Praise the pow’r of faith unswerving
In the face of evidence.
With a doctrine undeserving,
We must cling to our pretense;
Let us climb the rugged mountain
Though the cliffs are in our way:
“Faith and science from one fountain”
Let’s repeat the old cliché.

Faith and science, we must tether,
Through our cunning and our art,
Force the twain to come together
Though they long to cleave apart.
With the use of clever framing
Forge a bond that will not break;
Then, resort to petty blaming
Cov’ring up our own mistake.

Now two currents in the ocean
Long diverged, and long discrete,
One long stilled, and one in motion
Nevermore the two to meet;
Pray that God will cause a blending
Till they carve a single course
Justify our whine unending:
Faith and science, joined by force.

(The original is “Praise the Source of Faith and Learning”–text can be found here.)

Cuttlecap tip to PZ, of course, for reporting on the PEW Forum.

For those with a masochistic streak, Francis Collins sings the original at the end of this mp3.

Oh, yeah, buy my book, note the tip jar, yadda yadda yadda…

A bit of a departure, at first–although they do show up on a Pharyngula thread, this was originally posted on Eric Hovind’s creationist blog! Eric had posted, with his approval, a racist piece of crap poem, lacking in rhyme, meter, meaning, and any shred of human decency. But for some reason, Eric liked it. After an early comment corrected the flawed statistics touted in the verse, Eric admitted the stats were wrong, but reaffirmed that he liked the poem itself.

I find out that the stats are wrong
But still I gonna sing this song;
My skull so thick, my bone so dense
It will not let in evidence.

If something fits my point of view
It doesn’t matter if it’s true;
I’ll let it in, and keep it in,
Cos telling lies is no great sin.

And if I’m told that it’s a lie,
With evidence I can’t deny,
I’ll keep the lie that fits my views–
Thank God I have the right to choose!

America is great, because
My lie’s protected by our laws!
The First Amendment still applies
To ignoranti spreading lies!

A perusal of some of Eric’s other posts led to this little quatrain:

No matter how hard Eric tries,
It’s all mistakes. Well, some are lies.
Misrepresenting for his cause,
Young Hovind puts the “F” in “laws”.

From a single idiot to a small group of idiots–several members of Congress, based on their own individual experience with alternative medicine, have managed to give hundreds of millions of dollars to support it–despite its lack of actual empirical support:

I know my treatment works, and hence
I have no need of evidence;
It does not matter what the facts is–
This is how I’ll spend your taxes.

A little double-dactyl about PZ’s being named Humanist of the Year (and being given a ton of cephalopodian gifts to boot!):

Booty-ful, cutie-ful,
Thanks to the Humanists–
They’d reconsider, if
Only they knew

Evidence seen in his
Cephalopoddities
Tells us that Humans are
Ranked number two!

A very sad thread on Pharyngula reported on the death of a kitten–burned to death in an oven as a “joke”. One commenter suggested that we should not, logically, care so much about the kitten, since it is merely taking advantage of our evolved fondness for baby-like features. Evolution forced me to respond:

There’s little or nothing that isn’t emotion
In thoughts that we claim are a logical stream;
It’s not as if science has bottled a potion
That separates things from the way that they seem.
The kitten has hijacked my baby-detector,
Making me care when I maybe should not;
So what? Is that reason to cruelly reject her?
To not give a fuck if she’s cooked or she’s shot?
All humans are products of natural selection–
We are what we are, and we do what we do
We’re fooled into thinking that cats need protection;
The kitten has forced me to tell you “fuck you!”

And noted that the recognition of something as the product of evolution does not mean that we can, for that reason, dismiss it:

We may note with some confusion
That this empathy illusion
Makes us feel a certain feeling, and decide that we won’t play.
We may feel it holds us captive
But remember, it’s adaptive,
So dismiss it at your peril, cos it got us to today.
I don’t think I have to mention
We’re unique in comprehension
But that does not make us logical, no matter what we hope;
We are animals–with passion
And with reason, each in ration,
We may think ourselves a genius, when we’re really just a dope.

On murder by “pro-life” people:

And black is white, and up is down,
And hate, it seems, is love
So long as you can claim it’s done
In God’s name, from above
And wrong is right and bad is good
Let’s re-write all the laws
To justify a homicide
If Jesus is the cause

And a comment on a metaphysical course of study…

Of Science, Metaphysical, you now have your Degree–
It’s a quality diploma (you can keep the crayons for free!)
Just a couple thousand dollars, and it’s more than worth the fee
(Which is why we recommend that you invest in two or three)

It’s important to remember, on the chance you disagree,
That we never ever ever give a cash-back guarantee.

Lastly, from Orac’s stomping grounds, on the discovery that some homeopathic preparations actually, contrary to homeopathic teachings, have some real ingredients in them! Sadly, these actual ingredients are causing people who use them to lose their sense of smell! Actual homeopathy would be safer–after all, it does nothing at all!

Is it Zinc or is it water
That you’re giving to your daughter?
If it’s water, then it’s safer, cos it doesn’t do a thing.
Insufficiently diluting,
Which is what they’re now disputing,
Means the “remedy”‘s no longer pure as crystal mountain spring.
I had thought that the expedience
Of having no ingredients
Was what they found attractive (and it’s cost-effective, too!)
But now noticeable fractions
Of a drug produce reactions
Time to circle up the lawyers and aver that it’s not you!