Chris of Mixing Memory claims that you can make accurate personality assessments about a person just from listening to ten of their favorite songs. OK, let’s play that game. Here are ten songs I like.

• Excitable boy, Warren Zevon

• Us, Regina Spektor

• Coming in from the cold, The Delgados

• Ravnen, Sorten Muld (actually, my favorite by this band would be Tor af Hafsgaard, but it isn’t on YouTube)

• In your eyes, Peter Gabriel

• Raspberry beret, Prince

• Little fluffy clouds, Orb

• Shine on you crazy diamond, Pink Floyd

• Lullaby, The Cure

• Put your hands where my eyes can see, Busta Rhymes

That wasn’t an easy list to assemble. Only ten? It can’t be very representative. There ought to be some David Bowie and Annie Lennox and Tori Amos and Björk and Patti Smith on there, and some days I feel like Flogging Molly or Pearl Jam or Kraftwerk or Lords of Acid or even, dare I admit it, Enya … but for that moment when I skimmed through my iTunes library, those up there jumped out as pretty darned appealing.

I’m not sure what anyone can determine from that list, though — it looks like it’s largely the “Intense and Rebellious” category in Chris’s list, with a little of the other three categories tossed in.

I just know John Wilkins is going to gasp in horror and write frantic letters to Pieranna Garavaso, the organizer, telling her she’s making a horrible mistake, but I’m going to be on a panel at the 31st Midwest Philosophy Colloquium on 26 March, here in Morris, at (zut alors!) the Newman Center just off campus. Perhaps you too are reeling at that cascade of improbable associations, but really, it makes sense. Eric Olson of the University of Sheffield is giving a talk on defining the boundaries of the beginning and end of human life, so they dug up a local biologist, me, to contribute a bit to the discussion, along with Mark Collier, local philosopher, and Ben Waterworth, local student. Here’s the short summary:

The gradual nature of development from fertilization to birth and beyond leaves it uncertain when we cease to exist. Many philosophers have tried to answer these questions. Olson will argue that most of these answers are wrong and that a simpler answer follows from the apparent fact that we are biological organisms.

I was a little concerned — “simpler answer” in these discussions too often means “stupid answer” — but a quick skim of a few of his papers tells me he’s got some interesting ideas, and that I’m going to have to do some studying over spring break. I see a few places in his argument where I might disagree, but I have to dig a bit deeper and see if he’s already covered my issues elsewhere.

Whoa, I asked for poems for my birthday, I got poems. That was quite a response, and it had me regretting the fact that I didn’t demand money. I could have retired by now.

On top of that, GrrlScientist, Bora, and Archy are compiling lists of birthday greetings, so I can just pop over there and browse through everything you people have written. It brings a tear to the eye, it does, especially since this is a day demanding I do lots and lots of work and not leaving me much time for cruising through the web.

Next week, though, I’ll return the favor: there’s Lynn Margulis’s blog tour on Monday, and since it’s Spring break and I’ll actually be able to relax with some free time, I’ve got a couple of science posts to scribble up — cool stuff with weird invertebrates.

As of 7:07AM Pacific time on 9 March, that is. I expect everyone to write me a poem in celebration. To start you all off, Richard Dawkins has set an example.

Don’t give me that cross-eyed look. It is not unusual that I inspire poetry, I’ll have you know.

Since somebody asked, I will confirm that I will be at the showing of Flock of Dodos tomorrow. That’s going to be at 7:00pm in the Bell Museum auditorium ($7 admission). Randy Olson won’t be there (rumor has it he’s busy flitting from showing to showing, but Minneapolis just isn’t good enough for him…too far from the ocean or something), but Steven Miller, the executive producer of the movie, will be—so really, you’ll be able to ask in-depth questions about what went into making the movie. It’s a great opportunity. Argue with him, too! A movie and a discussion about how to communicate science; how can you pass it up?

I’m also not doing my usual zip in, zip out routine this time—I’m spending the night in the Big City. That means that if anyone wants to collar me afterwards and force me to listen to your objections to my evil stridency, you can do so! If you buy me a beer, at least.

Cafe Scientifique was great fun last night, although I admit that I’m feeling it this morning: I didn’t get home until after 1am, and I still had to get up at 6. It was a huge crowd, we got lots of questions and discussion. There were a few criticisms, too: we got one comment that there wasn’t enough evolution presented (these open discussions always get sucked into the culture wars issue), and there were a few criticisms that I was too harsh on religion. What? Moi? I think the people on the panel covered the full range of reasonable rational thought, from an atheist who was accepting of some degree of religious expression (Scott) to an agnostic (Mark) to the atheist who regards all religion with some degree of contempt (guess who).

Here we are. You can see that the Varsity Theater is a wonderfully funky place for these kinds of discussions—we had a beat-up couch on the stage, and the audience had tables and a bar at the back.

Many thanks to Shanai Matteson, the sparkplug who keeps Cafe Scientifique going in the Twin Cities.

Also thanks to John Ward, who took the pictures. I saw a few familiar faces there—any other Pharynguloids want to comment? My perspective was obviously skewed.

Our biology club has a fundraiser tradition: for Valentine’s Day, they’ll take your picture with our resident snake and print it out as a card (what is it about big snakes and romance, anyway?) Of course I have to participate, so here I am, fondling a big reptile with an even bigger dead reptile in the background.