Cephalart

It is the Cephalopodmas Season, when tentacles and the deep sea are on everyone’s mind, and that concentrated contemplation of all matters squidly must occasionally erupt into artful self-expression. Below the fold you will find a few beautiful images that have leapt into my mailbox lately.

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Cuttlekitsch

I’d happily hang that on my wall. The trophy wife would even more cheerfully tear it down, shred it, and set it on fire. But then, she’s the one with taste*.

i-ee2b04eda48ffbd88ac34a8eebaec64f-madonnafish.jpeg

*Don’t judge her by her taste in men. That was a momentary lapse of reason, a one time thing.

Rapping about genes

I like it!

I know this will set off another round of culture sniping — get over it. You don’t personally have to like this genre, just as no one has to like every kind of music out there, and turning your nose up at one form doesn’t necessarily mean your taste is better than someone else’s. Just recognize that it’s different. It’s not Mozart or Manilow, it’s just its own sound. If it helps you get over the rejection of something that doesn’t sound like the music you are familiar with, think of it as a poetry performance instead.

As for myself, most rap and hip-hop leaves me cold, but every once in a while something in it connects with me, and I can’t predict what it will be. I’ve even got some Busta Rhymes on my iPod that I really, really like…and no, I don’t have to justify it to anyone!

Here Comes Science!

I got a letter from John F — you know, John Flansburgh, of They Might Be Giants — and he says, “We’ve got this new album coming out that you might like, want me to send you a copy?”, and so I nonchalantly type back, “Sure, here’s my address,” which was really hard to do when you understand that I was dancing jigglety-pigglety in my chair, pumping my fists in the air, and shouting “WOO-HOO!” at the same time. It would have been impossible except for my blogging superpowers. (Oh, yeah…I’m a TMBG fanboi.)

I got the album Here Comes Science the other day, and it is fabulous. It’s kids’ music, so it’s catchy and a teeny-tiny bit didactic, but don’t let that put you off — I’ve loaded it onto my iPod and am enjoying it all the time. It’s also contains a CD and a DVD: each song also has an animated cartoon to go with it. They’re great and enthusiastic songs — my favorites so far are “I am a paleontologist” and “Science is real”.

You should buy it. It’ll be available next week, or you can always stop by my house and I’ll put the DVD up on the big screen and we can all rock out in my living room — I’ll push all the furniture to the side so we can all dance. Or if you’re cheap and don’t like me, you can subscribe to the TMBG podcast on iTunes: they’re going to release a song a week.

Can’t wait? You can get a look at “Science is Real” right now.


I should warn you, though, it’s controversial. Yeah, right. Look at the comments on Amazon. The song “Science is Real” contains these lyrics:

I like the stories
About angels, unicorns and elves
Now I like the stories
As much as anybody else
But when I’m seeking knowledge
Either simple or abstract
The facts are with science
The facts are with science

This has prompted a few comments.

I love TMBG more than anybody, but was it really necessary to take a pot-shot at religion?

This guy must be one of those thin-skinned elf worshippers.

As a Christian I’m offended by comparing unicorns, elves with angels. Unicorns and Elves are fiction, and angels are biblical. End of story.

(Shhh. Don’t tell him about Numbers 23:22 and 24:8, Deuteronomy 33:17, Job 39:9,10, Psalms 22:21 and 29:6 and
92:10 or Isaiah 34:7. Unicorns are biblical, too.)

This is why the accommodationist strategy is doomed to failure. There is no gentle demurral from religion that will not offend someone — even fun songs about science are expected to pretend that angels are real.

It’s culture time!

Let’s hear it for the arts!

  • The detestation of Genesis is universal, but hey you Brits! Instead of nagging on our creationist creepazoids, maybe you need to pick on the creationists in your backyard. Although, I have to say, the English creationists seem much less unpleasant than Ken Ham.

  • It’s time for some monkey music, composed from patterns in tamarin monkey calls. The ‘fearful monkey music’ is irritating to even this ape, and the ‘happy monkey music’ doesn’t make me happy at all. Maybe we’re not so related after all. Especially since the monkeys seem to like Metallica.

  • I also can’t dance. But you can now watch science-based dance, with ballet compositions built around Shackleton’s Antarctic expedition (I wonder if it ends with everyone frozen motionless?), animal courtship dances, and the Big Bang, which must be very hard on the dancers.