
After visiting the Body Worlds exhibit today, my short summary is that it was disappointing, but it wasn’t all bad.

After visiting the Body Worlds exhibit today, my short summary is that it was disappointing, but it wasn’t all bad.
Here’s a dilemma: I think Ron Numbers, the philosopher and historian of science, is a smart fellow and a net asset to the opposition to creationism, and I agree with him that a diversity of approaches to the issue is a good thing. My opinion could change, though, because I am experiencing considerable exasperation with the apologists for religion on the evolution side, and this interview with Numbers isn’t helping things. Here’s an example of the kind of nonsense that drives me nuts.
QUESTION: Are scientists in general atheistic?
MR. NUMBERS: The public often gets the impression that most scientists are non-believers. But, that’s not true. Just within the past year the journal Nature published a study that revealed even today roughly the same proportion of scientists believe in God as did 75 years ago. [The figure is almost 40%]
Two short articles in this week’s Science link the orb-weaving spiders back to a common ancestor in the Early Cretaceous, with both physical and molecular evidence. What we have is a 110-million-year-old piece of amber that preserves a piece of an orb web and some captured prey, and a new comparative study of spider silk proteins that ties together the two orb-weaving lineages, the Araneoidea and the Deinopoidea, and dates their last common ancestor to 136 million years ago.
Araneoids and Deinopoids build similar looking webs—a radial frame supporting a sticky spiral—but they differ in how they trap prey. Deinopoids spin dry fibers that they fluff into threads that adhere electrostatically to small insects; Araneoids secrete glue onto the the strand, which takes less work (no fluffing), and is much more strongly adhesive. The differences are enough to make one question whether there was a single origin of orb weavers, or whether the two groups independently stumbled on the same efficient form of architecture.
Cosmology is almost as interesting as developmental biology, and now you can read a short summary of the origins of the universe at Daily Kos.
This new strange question is sweeping the scienceblogs: “what kind of scientist is Batman?”
The answer is obvious.
While I was out playing all day yesterday, a new Tangled Bank appeared at Centrerion. I’m so late in my announcement that you’ve probably all read it already, but if you haven’t, there’s much science writing to occupy you for a while.
PvM at the Panda’s Thumb has already written a bit about this issue in the article “Human Gland Probably Evolved From Gills”, but I’m not going to let the fact that I’m late to the party stop me from having fun with it. This is just such a darned pretty story that reveals how deeply vertebrate similarities run, using multiple lines of evidence.
Cephalopods can inflict a nasty bite. On their underside, at the conjunction of their arms, they have a structure called the beak which does look rather like a bird’s beak, and which can close with enough force to crush shellfish. Many also dribble toxins into the wound that can cause pain, tissue necrosis, and paralysis. They aren’t the best animals to play with.
If you think about it, though, cephalopods don’t have a rigid internal skeleton. How do they get the leverage to move a pair of sharp-edged beaks relative to one another, and what the heck are they doing with a hard beak anyway? There’s a whole paper on the anatomy of just the buccal mass, the complex of beak, muscle, connective tissue, and ganglia that powers the cephalopod bite.
The very first edition of Mendel’s Garden, a genetics carnival, is now up at The force that through….
While I’m at it, let me remind everyone that a new Tangled Bank will be appearing at Centrerion on Wednesday—now is the time to send entries to me or host@tangledbank.net.
My kids like these energy drinks that are so popular nowadays—so it’s useful to learn what is in Red Bull. It looks like I won’t have to slap that can out of their hands next time I catch the whippersnappers drinking it (although I may have to give them a lecture about being thrifty—we fogies have to have something to complain about.)
