Cobwebs as art

Spider webs, especially cobwebs, are so complex that it can get annoying. They’re also hard to photograph — so many thin threads going every which-way in 3 dimensions, it’s easy to get lost. I’ve been gratified lately to find that I can confine spiders to make mostly two-dimensional sheets using a wooden frame in a plastic container (they prefer natural substrates), but I have no illusion that this reflects the sophistication of their natural behavior. It’s mainly a good way to get them to pose nicely for me, and to simplify moving them from one place to another.

But some people manage to capture those 3-D webs.

“Forget about spider man and his meek two-dimensional webs! Even though spider webs have been around for at least 140 million years, we have never managed to preserve, measure and display their webs in a three dimensional form. Tomás Saraceno has opened our eyes to the intricate geometry of spider webs with his newly invented scanning instrument that digitized for the first time a three-dimensional web. In fact, there is no single museum in the world with a collection of this kind. His spider web sculptures are a breakthrough in both science and art, and thanks to his methods and technique he has enabled much needed comparative studies in mathematics, engineering and arachnology, opening new fields of studies.”

(Peter Jäger, Head of Arachnology, Senckenberg Research Institute, Frankfurt am Main, and co-author of the World Spider Catalog, 2015)

There are lots of pretty pictures at that link. Everybody loves orb webs, but cobwebs are much more intricate and confusing.

Rich white man…guilty? Unbelievable!

I was living in Philadelphia during the OJ Simpson trial, and every day on my commute I’d pick up a copy of the Daily News, the city’s tabloid paper, and it was pretty much non-stop OJ coverage. It was weirdly fascinating, since OJ was that terrible combination of rich, famous, and obviously guilty. The trial was a prolonged spectacle of justice twisted to support a joyful media that knew a cash cow when they saw it, and a team of showboating lawyers who were more about putting on a show than practicing law. And then OJ was acquitted! The rich guy got off (although that was complicated by the fact that it was the rich black guy who escaped justice — there were a lot of people cheering for him, too.)

The latest law event comparable was the Alex Murdaugh trial. It was inescapable! It was unbelievable! It was a string of crimes where the culprit was clearly the corrupt Southern lawyer who seemed to think he could distract the law as it came crashing down on him by committing yet another clumsily executed murder, butchering his own family members. He was so obviously guilty that every death of everyone with any connection to the family began to look like another victim of a Murdaugh conspiracy.

I am so cynical that as the evidence piled up, I was convinced that Murdaugh was also going to be acquitted. The more damning the evidence became, the more certain I was that he was going to walk, because justice in America is synonymous with money. I was surprised when the jury adjurned and came back with a guilty verdict in only 45 minutes!

Amanda Marcotte has been reading my mind all this time.

Ah yes, why would cable news fixate on this truly bonkerballs string of crimes — corruption, fraud, drug abuse, and of course, murder — that would put any Southern gothic novel to shame? It hardly seems a mystery, especially when it seems that time spent not on this murder is instead dedicated to endless speculation about presidential primaries that are a year away and already have painfully predictable outcomes. (It’s Donald Trump and Joe Biden again, folks. Sorry to spoil the surprise.) And it’s not like they’re going to suddenly start having fruitful discussions on policy that will no doubt invite viewers to turn the channel.

Accusations of frivolity are something true crime fans have had to deal with for roughly forever. It’s a charge that has more than an air of sexism to it, as most such enthusiasts are women. But the Murdaugh case thoroughly exposes how wrong the “crime stories don’t matter” talking point is. The case cuts straight to the heart of so much of what is driving our current social-political climate, and in a more insightful way than most of the content the Beltway press is producing. (Oh boy, another interview with weaselly Trump voters in diners!) We’re in the midst of what is likely a decade, if not longer, of American crisis over exactly how much impunity we’ve allowed white men, especially those with money.

I think I’ve adopted a bleak mindset in which I’m helpless as rotten, stupid, rich men are going to trample all over the country with impunity. We can think of a few, I’m sure.

Donald Trump attempted a coup that led to a violent insurrection and he is not in prison yet. (And may be president again!) Social media owners like Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk are profiting off the destruction of democracy, and there seems to be no check on their power. Sure, Harvey Weinstein finally went to prison, but the powers that protect pampered white men have come roaring back, shielding other accused abusers like Johnny Depp and Kevin Spacey from consequences. Endless whining about “cancel culture” and “wokeness” is the battle cry of white male privilege — they will never fold to the forces demanding accountability!

The Murdaugh family story resonates because it’s so in tune with these societal concerns.

I’m still in disbelief that Trump is campaigning for president right now. The most corrupt and incompetent president in my lifetime, and he gets a free pass because he’s rich.

There are more.

Clearly, however, Murdaugh and his lawyer hoped he could bullshit his way out of this situation. It wasn’t a baseless belief. Murdaugh has a long history of evading justice that suggests he could pull it off. So it wasn’t hard to draw the connection between Murdaugh and the endless stream of glib rich white guy liars we’re subjected to on a daily basis: Trump. Tucker Carlson. Steve Bannon. Ben Shapiro. Ron DeSantis. I could go on forever. Men are always pissing on our legs and telling us it’s raining. We’re drowning in it.

What the Alex Murdaugh conviction tells us, though, is that there’s hope. Maybe, sometimes, we’ll see the wealthy and their puppets get their comeuppance.

Girl + Cats = Happiness

Too much ick this morning. Even grading is suddenly looking pleasant.

Here’s a palate cleanser: our granddaughter Iliana gets to take care of a couple of cats for a few weeks, and she seems happy about it.

Not our cat, obviously. Iliana has met our cat, it did not go well, but our cat seems to be a feral outlier.

Dallas Humber, American terrorist

Another vile human being has been dragged into the light. This woman has been promoting terrorism and encouraging mass murderers for decades, while hiding behind online anonymity. Left Coast Right Watch has done an amazingly thorough job of tracking her down — online anonymity isn’t as safe as she thought.

Over the past few years, she was simply known as “the narrator”—the disembodied voice that reads mass murderer manifestos, how-to guides on attacking critical infrastructure and collections of short essays written by an anonymous collective of white supremacists and accelerationists—the people hell-bent on causing the collapse of society.

Her name is Dallas Erin Humber, and she’s deeply involved with the online network of violent, militant bigots known as Terrorgram.

Here she is with her Nazi pedophile (why do those two words go together so often?) boyfriend, Jason Gant.

This is a doxxing I fully support. She’s the voice behind this thing called the Terrorgram Collective, an online group for the cheering fans of terrorism, murder, and mass destruction which has inspired at least one mass killing. Humber is a cheerleader for the worst, most contemptible people on the planet. I won’t quote her screeds — they make me sick, and probably would nauseate you, too — but if you must, the link above includes many excerpts from her sordid history, and there’s more here.

It’s not clear what more can be done about her, though. She’s a 33 year old woman living a normal public life in Sacramento, California, while inciting international violence under a cowardly pseudonym. Will exposing her have any discouraging effect at all? It’s not at all clear what it will do, other than give CPAC an opportunity to invite her to next year’s conference, and it looks like the law isn’t rushing forward to shut her down.

It’s also unclear whether Humber — now that her role in Terrorgram has been exposed — could or would be prosecuted. In the landmark Supreme Court ruling Brandenberg vs. Ohio, the court ruled that advocacy of violence could be punished only “where such advocacy is directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.”

Arusha Gordon — associate director of the James Byrd Jr. Center to Stop Hate at the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law — told HuffPost that it can be a high hurdle for prosecutors to jump to prove that certain incitements are “likely” to produce “imminent” violence.

It might be tough, for example, to demonstrate that Humber encouraging her followers to commit acts of terror amounts to an “imminent” threat in court. The Terrorgram Collective’s propaganda doesn’t always declare a specific, upcoming date for its followers to do terror.

So far, we’ll just have to settle for the fact that the world knows her name, where she lives, and what she looks like, and that her hatred will be scrutinized.

The Genocide Party had their yearly get-together

One pleasant bit of non-news is that CPAC is dying. For a couple of decades now, the Conservative Political Action Conference has been a yearly spectacle of far right conservative speechifying, when the radical Republicans could let their hair down and let their freak flag fly, and the media would dutifully report on their gibbering mania, and we’d point and laugh, and then some of the kooks would get elected to high office. Remember when David Silverman tried to get American Atheists represented at CPAC? That was an omen.

This year, I hadn’t even realized it was going on until several days into the conference, it was that much of a yawner. Attendance is way down, and the ratfuckers are giving speeches to nearly empty seats. Prospective presidential candidates are skipping the whole show. It’s a “who cares?” event now.

However, as it’s relevance declines, the participants are reaching for the big bottle of crazy evil to spark excitement, and as we all know, the Republican party has become unhealthily obsessed with what’s in other people’s pants. They’re trying to pass laws to restrict people’s civil rights, they’ve developed a weird hatred of Mrs Doubtfire, they want to burn books that even mention the existence of non-traditional non-heterosexuals. What’s next? How can they top the insanity they’re perpetrating right now?

How about genocide?

The Right’s war on queer and trans people took center stage at the Conservative Political Action Conference as Daily Wire host Michael Knowles openly called for the public eradication of transgender individuals. During his speech on Saturday, Knowles told the crowd, For the good of society… transgenderism must be eradicated from public life entirely — the whole preposterous ideology, at every level.
…
In his speech, Knowles used a convoluted line of thinking and false logic while trying to prove his horrifying point that trans people should not exist. There can be no middle way in dealing with transgenderism. It can be all or nothing, he said. If transgenderism is true, if men really can become women, then it’s true for everybody of all ages. If transgenderism is false — as it is — if men really can’t become women — as they cannot — then it’s false for everybody too. And if it’s false, then we should not indulge it, especially when that indulgence requires taking away the rights and customs of many people. It if is false, then for the good of society — and especially for the good of the poor people who have fallen prey to this confusion — then transgenderism must be eradicated from public life entirely — the whole preposterous ideology, at every level.

We’ve seen where this line of thinking goes, we don’t need a roadmap to recall our history. First we have to silence the Badthought with bookburnings and firelit marches and shrieking news articles. Then we pass laws criminalizing drag shows (Tennessee just made appearing in drag a felony with a 6 year prison sentence). Next we have to isolate the bad people in concentration camps, and then we have to move on to a Final Solution.

You would think that Ben Shapiro, Knowles’ big boss at the Daily Wire, would be aware of the comparison. Knowles himself is being made aware that he said the evil parts out loud, and is lashing out at the media that is reporting on his words and demanding retractions.

You said it, big boy. Be thankful that the only pain you might suffer is a little public humiliation, rather than a prison sentence or a beating or a gas chamber, like your victims have to deal with all the time.

Cocaine Bear

Huh. All I had to do was write the title and my review is done. That was easy.

OK, a little more.

I’ve got so much grading to do that I have to prod myself with little rewards. I had to compose an exam yesterday, and I told myself if I got it done before 7 I could go to the theater. I finished at 6. The choices available to me were Creed III, which is probably the better movie, but I’m not into sports movies at all, or Cocaine Bear, which looked entertainingly stupid. I went for the light entertainment.

There was a real cocaine bear, a black bear that discovered a drug dealer’s stash, ate 70 pounds of cocaine, and died. That would make for a short, sad, boring movie. In this movie, a plane drops cocaine into a park, and the bear finds scattered drops and turns into a raging drug fiend, flitting everywhere and ripping the limbs off various ne’er-do-wells and goofballs while collecting face-fulls of cocaine.

It was Ray Liotta’s last movie. It features a couple of kids who are cute, sassy, and don’t get eaten. The adults meet their demise in various creative ways. It’s a bit gorey.

Final assessment: it was honest schlock, and much, much better than Quantumania.

(I’ve got lots more grading to do, and am about to head off to the coffee shop with a stack of papers. When I get that done, the reward is to spend a little spider time. Then more grading this afternoon — maybe I’ll goad myself on with something on Netflix tonight. Then more grading tomorrow.)

I think I could agree with this guy fairly well

This is a good summary of my position on all the sex and gender chatter going on, except that I really don’t care at all what sex an imaginary god might have.

I’m a bit more flexible than he is on the question of biological sex, though. It’s more than just a small number of people on the saddle of a bimodal distribution, I think there are multiple parameters that define our sex that allow people to possess aspects of both male and female sex.

Naomi Wolf thinks my penis is going to rot and fall off. Should I be concerned?

It’s looking diseased.

I hadn’t heard of the “Daily Clout” before, it’s just another far right histrionic pseudo-journalistic platform for particularly ignorant pundits. This morning I learned that they’re claiming the COVID vaccine will make your penis rot and fall off. I’ve had four shots, I guess I need to worry.

Or not worry. This woman is reading through Pfizer’s internal documentation of their trials, and jumping on every chance occurrence as a causal indictment of the treatment. One person got an epithelial cancer, another had a blood clot, etc., etc., etc. — but that’s to be expected in an large sample of the population in a clinical trial. Some of the participants might have died in a car accident, but you don’t leap to the assumption that the vaccine caused the accident. You have to compare the frequency in the test group to the frequency in the general population.

Then I learn the “Daily Clout” was founded by Naomi Wolf. OK. I’m done. My penis is relieved.

Disappointed, and relieved

This was supposed to be a heavy research morning — we’ve started a new experiment in the lab and spiders need to be assayed, and we were going to do some scanning of egg sacs with our confocal, and I was figuring I’d be neck deep in spider work until at least noon. But then my student called in sick, which was exactly the right thing to do (COVID is going around the student body again), and I had to postpone everything until Monday. I wouldn’t want to deprive her of the fun part of science!

Instead, I did the drudgery part of science, feeding all the animals. They didn’t really need it, they had mealworms earlier this week, and look like little brown beach balls right now. I wouldn’t want them to wake up feeling peckish and discover the larder was empty this weekend.

I found two new egg sacs. Two others look very close to emergence, so I sorted those out into new small containers. The confinement makes it easier to remove newly scampering spiderlings.

Now I’m staring at a stack of lab reports and exams and senior thesis drafts that I’m going to have to get done this weekend. I also have to compose a genetics exam to mail out this evening. First, though, I have to deliver another lecture to my other class. There will be no joy in Morris today.

This was supposed to be my light semester.