Rural kitsch

I traveled across country yesterday, from Morris to Seattle, and the first stop on the journey was a truck stop in Sauk Centre, where highway 28 merges onto I-94. I gassed up the car, and then wandered in awe-struck wonder through the display of stuff you could buy if you wanted more than a tankful of gas and a cup of coffee.

There were pewter crosses that you could buy with your name embossed in the middle. There were racks of flag-adorned knick-knacks. There were toy trucks and tractors you could buy for the kiddies. Was drawn to the wall of inspirational art, which all had a theme: farming and patriotism.

I could have got myself a metal wall hanging with two pistols, and the words, “In this home we don’t call 911,” which had me wondering…if Ralph nicked an artery on the hay baler, what are you going to do with those guns? If little Edna wandered off in a snowstorm, who you gonna call?

There were very colorful paintings/prints, all in a hyper-realistic style. There was one of a charming farmhouse with a green grassy yard, and five different tractors parked on it, dominating the scene. I guess in this world, prosperity is measured in how many tractors you own. There were so many pictures of eagles, with American flags worked artfully into the background.

But my eye was most strongly drawn to these two pictures.

There on the left was Donald Trump, riding his flag bedecked motorcycle into town, with Melania, and spectators in red MAGA hats cheering him on. On the right, Donald Trump crossing the swamp, in a boat full of poses stolen from a better known painting. We know it’s Donald Trump, not because the figure actually looks anything like the fat old man, but because of the weird candy-floss hair or the bright red tie.

My eye was drawn to these absurd pictures only because I was so repelled that I wanted to slash them. I resisted.

Anyway, this is the Trump cult in full flower out here in the rural midwest. It’s all tangled up in agrarian fantasies, religion, and trucks, tractors, guns, and motorcycles. Good luck rooting it out.

I like Ed Yong even more now

I thoroughly enjoyed Ed Yong’s talk about how he coped with the pandemic. You’ll probably enjoy it, too.

He’s upbeat and positive about everything, although he did break in a few places: first to berate fucking Jonathan Chait, and secondly when he talked about quitting his job at the Atlantic, specifically citing their relentless anti-trans editorial position. I can’t fault him for that, I feel the same way.

We also share one thing in common: during the pandemic, he turned to photography to escape. Hey, me too! Although Yong was more interested in photographing birds, rather than the more delicate beauty of spiders. I’d advise him to try switching it up a bit, except macro photography and wildlife photography require completely different kits and a completely different approach to the subject. Either way, it gets you outside and focusing on something other than the nightmares of pandemics and politics.

Also, this is pretty good advice.

But what if the strangers are arguing with me? That’s a tough recommendation to follow.

I promise to use power well, if ever I have any.

Here we go again

I’m flying out to Seattle this weekend to take another step in the probate process after my mother’s death. I’m meeting with lawyers and bankers — can you imagine anything more fun?

I’ve been getting all this paperwork together, going through my mother’s birth certificate, marriage certificate, social security card, death certificate, etc., etc., etc. I’ve also got all the same stuff for my father — they skipped probate at his death, since everything was in both my mother and father’s name at that time, but now all that has caught up to me. It’s depressing to see a whole life reduced to a small pile of papers.

Next week everything gets shut down, her official existence is over, and every penny gets shuffled into an account in my name, before I have to start divvying it up and sending checks to all the heirs…after we sell off the house. Anyone want to buy a 4 bedroom house on the road between Auburn and Lake Tapps? It was good enough for almost 50 years of homey living and 6 kids.

I am burdened by pessimism

I care about all the things the guy in this cartoon doesn’t.

I do not want to live in the hellscape a Republican victory would produce. I fervently want Harris to win. However…I feel a prophecy coming on.

I prophesy that even if we get the best possible result, a clean sweep by the Democrats capturing the White House, the Senate, and the Representatives, November will be a nightmare. There will be contested elections. There will be false electors. There will be lawsuits. Elections will linger unresolved until Spring. And that’s the gentle stuff.

There will be riots. There will be assassinations. The Capitol will be assaulted. Gangs will roam the streets, attacking anyone not wearing a MAGA hat. Congress will be in chaos, while the Supreme Court looks on in approval, and the NY Times opines on the virtues of fascism.

Mind you, that is the best result to expect.

I don’t own any weapons of war. Maybe I should take some time in early November to sharpen the kitchen knives? Having America wiped clean by a series of climate catastrophes would be a positive outcome.

My personal experience matches this observation

Everyone who has gone to grad school knows this, but we also recognize that this study was executed by grad students who just wanted to get through the next few years.

A study of Swedish PhD candidates has shown the vast toll that doctoral studies can take on mental health. The survey adds robust data to discussions about the mental-health crisis in academia. Studies and anecdotal evidence have long shown that PhD students can experience immense pressure to publish and to find funding and jobs in a brutally competitive landscape.

The analysis looked at the rates at which all Swedish PhD students were prescribed psychiatric drugs and were hospitalized for mental-health problems. It found that, on average, the longer they were doing doctoral studies, the more they needed to access such services. By the fifth year of studies, the likelihood that PhD candidates needed mental-health medications had increased by 40%, compared with the year before study (see ‘PhD pressures’).

I’ll admit that I had a relatively easy time in grad school — I had a good, supportive advisor, and I got through the whole program in five years, and also got support for 3 more years after completion. I knew of other faculty who were absolute monsters, neglectful and cruel, though, and even with a good advisor I felt the pressure of that rising curve. It’s interesting how quickly the curve drops after the fifth year. I wonder whether that’s because they had adapted to cynicism and despair, or because they’d found positions. Grad school ends, you know, and it ends with a sudden increase in the intensity of the experience, culminating in a defense that cleanly completes the process. I remember the relief of finally finishing.

I do wonder how grad school compares to the life of normies, though. I suspect that that transition from trainee to the workforce is difficult for everyone. Except med students?

The study found that uptake in medication varied across academic fields. Those in natural sciences saw a 100% increase by the fifth year compared with pre-PhD levels, whereas those in the humanities and social sciences saw 40% and 50% increases, respectively. Medical students didn’t see any uptick in prescriptions.

That last sentence is just weird. I’ve known med students, and the stresses are enormous. Is it that the med students have access to the dispensary and the good drugs, or that there is so much pressure on them to conceal their stress?

Do you believe him yet?

Elon Musk revealed the latest generation of his Optimus robot on stage. They didn’t do much: they walked slowly into the audience, accompanied by protective Tesla employees, while Musk hyped them up.

“The Optimus will walk amongst you,” Tesla CEO Elon Musk qips. “You’ll be able to walk right up to them, and they will serve drinks.”

Musk explains it can basically “do anything” and mentions examples like walking your dog, babysitting your kids, mowing your lawn, serving you drinks, etc. He said it will cost $20,000 to $30,000 “long term.”

“I think this will be the biggest product ever of any kind,” Musk says.

They had some interacting with attendees, handing out cups of ice and playing rock-paper-scissors, but I’d bet those were remote controlled by other engineers, out of sight. The claim that they’d be able to take care of your pets or kids is ludicrous, coming from a guy notorious for his neglect of, and abuse of, his children.

He’s not going to be able to produce a reliable robot with all those capabilities for $30,000, and no, I’m not going to spend tens of thousands of dollars to own a big clumsy machine to take care of my evil cat poorly, and to serve me drinks. We recently had to replace our refrigerator, and we just laughed at the idea of getting one that had internet access and a drinks dispenser on its door…why would we want that monstrosity in our home, when you can’t even store a package of frozen peas in it?

As usual, Musk is just confirming that he’s a very bad salesman whose lies are getting increasingly unbelievable.

The language police are coming for you

It’s not who you think it is. It’s not the people who use pronouns, it’s the ones who want to abolish words they don’t like.

But, you might say, that’s a cartoon making a humorously exaggerated claim. Nope, those are the literal words of Project 2025.

The next conservative President must make the institutions of American civil society hard targets for woke culture warriors. This starts with deleting the terms sexual orientation and gender identity (‘SOGI’), diversity, equity, and inclusion (‘DEI’), gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender awareness, gender-sensitive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, and any other term used to deprive Americans of their First Amendment rights out of every federal rule, agency regulation, contract, grant, regulation, and piece of legislation that exists.

But, you might continue to say, you’re a white man. You have nothing to worry about.

Unless you’re living in Florida, of course.

Also, as ProPublica revealed when they published Project 2025’s secret training videos, a representative of the group said If the American people elect a conservative president, his administration will have to eradicate climate change references from absolutely everywhere.

They really think they can warp reality by controlling the dictionaries.

Bring me the head of Arthropleura

We’ve known about these amazing fossils from the lower Carboniferous for a while — it’s Arthropleura, a gigantic 2.5 meter long millipede. Imagine cleaning up your kitchen when a beast 2 or 3 times your length fluidly, sinuously crawls out from your baseboards. Wouldn’t that be neat?

One of the only problems with imagining that is that none of the fossils to date have had a head. Sure, it’s imposingly large, but what kind of face does it have? It’s a millipede, and millipedes are harmless detritivores who aren’t going to be a threat at all, unless you’re a pile of moldering leaves or a fungus. It’s centipedes that are primarily carnivores, with pointy sharp venomous forcipules that can deliver a nasty bite. That Arthropleura is in the millipede clade tends to blunt their potential menace.

Good news, time-traveling super-villains looking for a pet! The head of Arthropleura has at last been discovered, and it’s centipede-like, with strong bitey jaws, and also has stalked eyes. It’s a bit squished.

(A and B) Three-dimensional reconstruction. (A) Dorsal view. (B) Ventral view. (C and D) specimen inside the nodule. (C) Part. (D) Counterpart. Co, collum; DT, digestive tube; H, head; Pt, paratergite; S#, sternite number; St, syntergite; T#, tergite number; Te, telson. Reconstructions are made from Phoenix X-ray Phoenix V|tome|x CT scan. Scale bars, 1 cm (C and D) and 5 mm (A and B).

(A) Dorsal view. (B) Ventral view. (C) Back view. (D) Frontal view. Left maxillae were removed on (B) to better illustrate the mandible below. The red circle on (C) indicates the position of the digestive tract.

However, it’s still thought likely that it was a detritivorous. This has advantages for those of us who really want one as a pet: it’s still an intimidating creature, but in its free time it can roam the lair, cleaning up any untidiness.

Yes, I might fantasize a bit about keeping a few Arthropleura about the house. Better than a dog, anyhow.

I had The Talk with my chair

I turned in my application for a sabbatical next year. It’ll almost certainly be approved. Yay!

While I was there, I also discussed my future plans. I’m going to start phased retirement the year after that, 2026, and teach a 75% load that year. I’ll be negotiating with my colleagues about the years after that, but I’m thinking I’ll probably be outta here in 4 years.

I just hit my breaking point and decided to commit to an exit strategy. All of my classes are so inert — too many quiet faces staring expressionlessly at me every day. The students are fine, I just think I’m getting too old and losing that spark to trigger good engagement. They deserve better.

More good news: maybe there will be a job opening for a new biologist in a few years…if the administration eventually approves a replacement.