James Watson’s Nobel medal sold for more than expected. He’s very happy.
After the sale, he said: “I’m very pleased. It’s more money than I expected to give to charity.”
I’m about to go off to the local clinic for a visit with a specialist, who’s going to figure out all the things wrong with me. It could take days, weeks, or months, who knows…but if I don’t make it back this afternoon, just figure I gave up and have donated my body to science.
That went unexpectedly well. I’m in good shape, the infection that was making me miserable is clearing up, I’m not getting shipped off to the body farm just yet.
I guess it’s time to start opening the little doors on your advent calendar, if you have one. If you don’t, I recommend the Cosmic Genome Advent Calendar. It’s free, and every day gives you a new little science clip. Today’s is about a weird little experiment you can do in a dimly lit room with a mirror…which I can’t try yet, because I’m on my way to work, and everything in the science building is brightly lit with Science and Technology and the Fluorescent Glow of the Future.
Later, when I get home…
Now I don’t know whether to believe this article or not: it claims that self-assessment of narcissism is just as accurate as taking a psychological inventory, because narcissists aren’t shy about saying what they are. So I tried it myself: on a score of 1-7, I gave myself about a 3.
It’s going to suck, isn’t it? My expectations are pretty much pegged at zero on this one.
Alexis Madrigal taste-tested five frozen turkey dinners — you know, those sad little plastic packages that you microwave and unwrap and find yourself face gelatinous goo and reconstituted turkey scraps — so that even if you over-ate yesterday, you can feel good today that at least you weren’t stuck with that stuff.
When you think about it, Thanksgiving is a terrible holiday, one of my least favorite. The only good thing about it is that I intend to get completely caught up on my grading over a four-day weekend, and otherwise…we’re having a normal dinner (no turkey, no overeating), no traveling, and we’re not going shopping. I recommend restraint. It makes the day so much more pleasant.
This is the lounge. You can discuss anything you want, but you will do it kindly.
Status: Heavily Moderated; Previous thread
So what’s with all the nutty baseball players? First there was Curt Schilling, raving creationist, and now it’s Jose Canseco, space cadet. Fresh off the embarrassment of shooting off one of his own fingers in an accident while cleaning his gun, he’s now twittering about taking over the entire galaxy by riding on comets, and Galactic Beings have used comets as star taxis for eons
.
I don’t think he knows much about comets.
I’ve bumped into Curt Schilling on twitter now and then — he has a penchant for posting flamingly stupid creationist idiocy. (I know, you’re thinking, how can a baseball pitcher possibly be that inane, don’t they teach science in ball-throwing-school? But he is.)
