A very Chesley Bonestell future

Walt Disney and Werner von Braun teamed up to tell us how we were going to get to the moon…in 1955. There’s a certain familiar esthetic to the exercise — shiny, long pointy spaceships with fins, a huge multilevel rotating wheel a 50-man (literally, there are no women) space station, swarms of robotic-looking construction suits. They ditch the fins for their lunar vehicle, since you don’t need them in space…but they do keep the sleek pointy shape.

Every bit of it is wrong, in hindsight. I’m impressed with the elaborate models and the chiseled, handsome men who are floating about in the excessively roomy cabin, but von Braun’s vision of the future was all hype and glitz and was as ridiculous as anything Elon Musk proposes.

You may have heard about Minnesota winters…

I’m going to be passing through Clontarf today, and I’ve long wondered about that strikingly Irish name in a region settled by Scandinavian and German settlers. There has to be a story behind that, and I found out what it was. The Catholic Church had shipped over a lot of Irish people to live in Minnesota, creating what were called the Connemaras (after the region in Ireland they came from), surprising them by settling them in new small towns in the western prairies. The experiment did not work.

The history of this community can be traced to the arrival of a sizeable group of immigrants from the Connemara area of Ireland. They had been persuaded to come to Minnesota in the 1880’s by Archbishop John Ireland and were initially located on farms in the western part of the state. For a variety of reasons, the experiment was a failure and many of the settlers came to St. Paul and settled along the banks of Phalen Creek between Third and Seventh Streets below Dayton’s Bluff.

So Clontarf is a relic of brief Irish colony in my part of the state. Then I was left wondering about that “variety of reasons” that led them to fall back from this region to the big city of St Paul.

I learned about the winter of 1880-1881 from a compilation of newspaper articles published in Morris at that time.

I was surprised (but shouldn’t have been) at how dependent the towns out here were on the railroad — I knew that these were all railroad towns, and even that Morris was named after some minor executive at the railroad company, but in the 19th century those rails were the lifeline for all these communities. Winters were rough, some more so than others, and it was predictable that the Catholic Church had provided poorly for the Irish. It’s a shame that the railroad is so poorly maintained now, and only freight is carried on it now, and not always successfully — we had a train derailment a few weeks ago.

Let’s all look forward to a Minnesota winter!

Airshow today!

I’m driving to Granite Falls, MN this morning. It’s only about an hour SSE of Morris, so I’ll still be in the middle of nowhere in west central Minnesota. A while back, though, I was searching for local museums and discovered this one: the Fagen Fighters WWII Museum. I was surprised. This looks like a big deal with all kinds of old US aircraft from the the 1940s, and many of them still fly. I’ve been planning to visit it all summer long, but those plans got wrecked by a torn meniscus that limited my mobility — I’m feeling much better now, so I think can handle walking around some hangars and watching airplanes fly by. My brother and I used to bicycle out to local airports all the time just to watch private planes buzz by, so this is going to bring back memories.

I’ve been to the Air and Space Museum in Washington DC, as well as the Boeing Museum of Flight in Seattle, and while this museum is a bit smaller than those, tomorrow is special: they’re celebrating the 250th anniversary of the US Navy & Marine Corps, so an additional assortment of aircraft are flying in. How can I resist? I want to see a P38 Lightning, an F4U Corsair, and an F6F Hellcat. Eighty year old airplanes still flying!

Tickets are still available, so if you’re a Minnesotan interested in this sort of thing, maybe I’ll see you there.

“Anatomically fulsome”

A couple of medieval scholars are arguing over a dick pic. Apparently, the Bayeux tapestry depicts more than just a battle — it has numerous images of penises.

The Oxford professor George Garnett drew worldwide interest six years ago when he announced he had totted up 93 penises stitched into the embroidered account of the Norman conquest of England.

According to Garnett, 88 of the male appendages are attached to horses and the remainder to human figures.

OK, so a handful of warriors were flopping out of their gear, and the tapestry artists were careful to include that detail. The debate is over how many people had a wardrobe malfunction.

Now, the historian and Bayeux tapestry scholar Dr Christopher Monk – known as the Medieval Monk – believes he has found a 94th.

A running man, depicted in the tapestry border, has something dangling beneath his tunic. Garnett says it is the scabbard of a sword or dagger. Monk insists it is a male member.

I’ll let you decide. Here’s the figure in contention. Penis or dagger?

“I am in no doubt that the appendage is a depiction of male genitalia – the missed penis, shall we say. The detail is surprisingly anatomically fulsome,” Monk said.

Heh. “Anatomically fulsome” — I’ll say. That thing is hanging down to his knees and is so massive that he’s got to run with his legs spread wide. I wonder if it was stitched by his girlfriend.

Another day in my history of evolutionary thought class

Today I’m teaching a perilous topic: the eclipse of Darwinism. There was a period of several decades where you could make an honest intellectual argument against evolution, roughly from the time it was first published (1860) to the development of population genetics (say, roughly 1920). All the arguments since then are fundamentally garbage, but before then, some smart, reputable, qualified scientists did have sincere disagreements with the theory. Also there were some terrible arguments against Darwin, but I’m focusing on just the intelligent principled arguments.

One part of Darwin’s problem is that we have to admit that there were some gigantic holes in his theory — in particular, he didn’t have a good theory of inheritance. He tried to come up with one, his theory of pangenesis, which was a combination of Lamarckian and blending inheritance. It was wrong. It was also incompatible with his theory of evolution.

What I’ll be arguing, though, is that there was a greater problem than the flaws, and that was not that people were punching holes in The Origin. Good criticism is a treasured thing in science, and critical evaluation of an idea is essential to refining and improving it. Eventually, the people ripping on Darwin’s model of inheritance were going to produce a much more solid theory.

I’m going to make the somewhat controversial claim that the people who were burying evolution were the ones who were must uncritical and gung-ho about the idea — the ones who wholeheartedly embraced Darwinism, warts and all, and extended it in unproductive ways. That means that today I’m going to talk about two people who were disastrous to Darwinism while simultaneously acting as prominent cheerleaders for it.

So yeah, I’m going to rake a couple of historical figures over the coals, specifically Haeckel and Herbert Spencer. We’re going to discuss the positive claims of a couple of prominent 19th century boosters of evolution, and I’m going to make the case that their excesses were a contributing factor to the eclipse. Worse, their version of evolution was popular and persuasive and despite their rejection as good science, we’re still dealing with people who think recapitulation and “survival of the fittest” are great shorthand summaries of the principle of evolution.

The reading I’ve assigned for the week is this article, The Beauty and Violence of Ernst Haeckel’s Illustrations, which is an extremely harsh condemnation of Haeckel’s views. “Haeckel’s visions of nature were less objective depictions of life and more projected notions about the proper ‘order’ of nature,” it says. I’m telling the students to read Haeckel critically and also to regard this article skeptically. I’m hoping maybe they’ll be provoked into good, vigorous debate in the classroom, and that they’ll put together some thoughtful essays on the topic.

Today I’m doing a “fool’s experiment” in the classroom

Fridays are the worst, from a teacher’s perspective, and Mondays are great. Students start out the week full of enthusiasm and slowly deflate, so today I’ve only got 50% attendance…and that’s typical. I try to pack Mondays with all the deep information, while on Fridays I try to do something different.

We’ve been talking about Darwin this week. I’ve given them an in-class exercise to browse through the Darwin project and begin to put together a short essay. Here are their instructions.

In your next essay, you’re going to be a real historian: I want you to read a few samples of primary historical references from Charles Darwin, and interpret and explain what he is writing about.

The Darwin Correspondence Project (https://www.darwinproject.ac.uk/) is a massive archive of letters to and from Charles Darwin, containing about 15,000 documents that have all been indexed and made publicly available. I want you to dive into this pile of letters, pluck out a few, and read them carefully. You may have to do additional research to figure out who these long dead people were, but the Darwin Project has actually done a lot of that work for you.

Write a 750 word essay that explains the context and meaning of the letters you choose. Unlike most scientific writing, this kind of essay encourages quoting your source — but don’t use up more than 250 words in direct quotes.

You get to choose the topic of the letters. Some might contain heavy scientific arguments, others might be friendly chit-chat, some are questions about that flower you were supposed to mail to me. They’re all good and interesting! Peek into the mind of a famous scientist, and you’ll find both deep revelations and mundane conversation.

In class: before you go, summarize to the group what you intend to write about, or tell us something interesting that you found.

I’m in class, working in parallel with them, and occasionally interrupting to get an idea of what they’re focusing on. I was most interested in Darwin’s “fool experiments“. These were experiments where you figured that it would never work, or that the answer would be obvious, but you go ahead and do the experiment anyways.

‘I love fools’ experiments. I am always making them’, was one of the most interesting things the zoologist E. Ray Lankester ever heard Darwin say. ‘A great deal might be written as comment on that statement’, Lankester later recorded, but he limited himself to stating that ‘the thoughts which it suggests may be summed up by the proposition that even a wise experiment when made by a fool generally leads to a false conclusion, but that fools’ experiments conducted by a genius often prove to be leaps through the dark into great discoveries.’

That’s a really good idea. I should go do a fool’s experiment this afternoon, maybe I’ll be surprised.

My students are right now digging into Darwin’s religious beliefs, his love life, his speculations about the age of the earth, and are going to give me the details next week. This should be fun.

Testa di cazzo!

To some people, today is Columbus Day. Those people have a cultish dedication to believing that a rapist, a thief, a slaver, and an oppressor was a hero — I guess nowadays we can believe there will be subset of the citizenry who ignore the facts to invent a cherished symbol. To be fair, here’s a bit from the Friends of Italian-Americans.

Even by today’s impossible utopian standards, Columbus was without a doubt the greatest hero of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries. He was a capitalist in the age of Empires, and what he did began the downfall of imperialism. He was a scientist in the age of superstition. He was a civil rights activist in the age of oppression. And he was a pacifist in the age of war-mongering. Thus, Columbus was an icon and a paragon.

For a quick dismissal of their claims, consider that they condemn Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States by citing a PragerU video.

I think this is a better summary of Columbus’s character.

Italian-American Trade Unionists of America Condemn Columbus on Columbus Day The Italian-American Trade Unionists of America (IATUOA) has once again reaffirmed its condemnation of Christopher Columbus on Columbus Day.
“We only mention the son of a bitch’s name once a year and it’s when we announce that he’s a son of a bitch on his name day,” the IATUOA Executive Committee announced from a dark, smoke-filled room in the Italian-American Club of Shamokin, PA.
The IATUOA, founded on the principles of cultural solidarity through bargaining, mutual aid, shared dining experiences, and anti-imperialism, believes Columbus represents the antithesis of these core values. Based on his writing and contemporary accounts, Columbus was a greedy, self-indulgent strunz, a jerk-off that gleefully engaged in the enslavement and genocide of indigenous people for personal gain and fame.
Further, this fucking guy, supposedly Genoese, rarely spoke or wrote in Ligurian or any Italic language. What kind of “Italian” does that?
Italian-Americans deserve recognition and a holiday in the United States, but also deserve a figure worthy of their name. “If you’re gonna name the fuckin’ day Columbus Day, you might as well go-all in and make the fucking holiday Columbus/Mussolini Day to piss on a few more graves,” the IATOUA Executive Committee further scoffed.

Missed opportunity

Today is the anniversary of that day when people show paintings of the surrender at Appomattox Courthouse, and I ask, “General Grant, why are you shaking hands with that piece of shit?” I also wonder if American generosity to bloody-handed traitors might have something to do with our current habit of appeasement to Nazis, anti-Semites, and insurrectionists.

The surrender, 9 April 1865

Wow, now I really want to read this book!

Does anyone have a copy of the 1658 edition?

The Crafty Whore:
or,
The mistery and iniquity of
BAWDY HOUSES
Laid open,
the dialogue between two SUBTLE BAWDS,
wherein, as in a mirrour, our
CITY-CURTESANS
may face their sould-destroying Are, and Crafty
devices, whereby they Insnare and beguile
Youth, pourtraled to the life,
By the PENSELL of one of their late, (but now
penitent) CAPTIVES, for the benefit of
all, but especially the younger sort.
Whereunto is added
DEHORTATIONS from LUST
Drawn from the
SAD and LAMENTABLE
Consequences it produceth.
Mastodon

We need to bring back that style of title/title page for all of our texts. It got me hooked from the first line.

Google Maps for the Roman Empire

The last time I was in London, I was so tempted by all the ads for $30 flights to Rome — I could flit off for a weekend in Italy! I could also make a day trip by train to Edinburgh, which was a bit more expensive but a pleasant way to travel anyway. Let’s do a fantasy vacation and see what I could do. Here’s the Edinburgh trip:

What? The closest you can get me is to York, which the British manage to spell funny, and it’s going to take nine days? By donkey? British rail sure has gone downhill.

What about that weekend trip to Italy, instead? Cheapest route, please.

No direct flights available? I have to take a couple of sea cruises, another butt-busting ride on a donkey, and it’s going to take 37 days? I haven’t the slightest idea what the conversion rate for denarii is, so I’m not going to guess what it costs. Probably more than $30.

You’ve probably figured out that I wasn’t using Google Maps, but this cool webpage called Orbis, which uses a historical database to calculate routes and travel times to and from various destinations in 200CE. Apparently, there was no such thing as taking a three day vacation in a different country back then, when you either had to walk, ride a donkey, or pay a lot of money for a carriage.

I could see how fantasy novelists and fantasy gamers, as well as historians, could use this to get some perspective on how much work was required to move around in the ancient world.