Sinks are dangerous places for small creatures — they stumble in and then they can’t climb up and out over the smooth vertical walls. This little guy was fortunate that I found them and scooped them up.
Later I’ll set them free outside.
I woke up this morning with terrible sharp pains in my knee — I guess I’d been sleeping too hard. Naturally, an article titled Assessment of the efficacy of alkaline water in conjunction with conventional medication for the treatment of chronic gouty arthritis: A randomized controlled study caught my eye. Maybe it wasn’t about sleeping in an awkward position at all, but rather, I hadn’t been drinking sufficiently alkalized water! That would be easily fixed. I waded through all the statistics to get to the final summary diagram.
Mechanism diagram of alkaline water treatment for chronic gouty arthritis.
I am reassured that my tibia and fibula, and that unexpected third lower limb bone, have not yet begun to regress and break up into little tarsal bones. I don’t know about whether I’m full of pink and purple crystals, but who knows? Maybe my knee crystals were triggered into deaghtin citcliaell geucis.
This paper was the work of the Guangdong Provincial Hydroelectric Hospital & Paper Mill. How can you not trust it?
My recent video stirred up a lot of comments, so I’ll try to address them in a YouTube live video tonight. Feel free to jump on me! I’m even willing to send a zoom link to anyone I trust if you want to get on camera with me — email pzmyers@gmail.com.
I’ve been a bit withdrawn lately, with concerns over personal matters. As I tend to do, I retreated into self-absorbed uselessness. I did get three lectures organized for my new fall class, though, so that’s something…and I also started thinking about a far less productive question. What the heck happened to the New Atheism? I used to be loosely associated with that “movement,” although nowadays I’m more inclined to repudiate it.
Transcript down below
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This morning, I wrote an obituary and contacted a probate lawyer, so that’s where I’m at. I did post a video that I’d mostly written last week, and this morning I’m going to spend some quiet time feeding the spiders.
I’m also actively avoiding human contact, but that’s mostly normal for me.
My sisters have been gathering photos for a memorial service next week. Here’s Mom in the 1950s with her beau:
And the last photo I have of her, looking dignified and a bit tired:
When I think about my childhood, I founder on the fact that memory is not linear, it’s not complete, and most of what remember is a wash of general feelings and confabulations anchored by brief, vivid flashes of specific moments that are lit up by unforgettable events. I was fortunate that much of that vague blur of background events was made up of kindness and love, of a stable and affectionate home, but that also means that the specific memories are scarce and hard to salvage from the general wave of goodness, and are difficult to place in a clear sequence, unless they’re attached to a recorded historical event.
One such memory is from March of 1964. I was seven, attending Kent Elementary, and I was alone, walking across the playground, which was conveniently across the street from my house. I was alone because I had no friends; we had moved to a new house and a new school, which was a common event, since my parents were struggling economically, and we moved roughly once a year, as they tried to simultaneously move out of the poor places they were trapped in and build a stable home for their family. That’s part of the background noise of my childhood memories, trying to remember which house we were living in when some more interesting thing happened. My memory warehouse is built of one rental after another, creating a ramshackle sequence that stitches events together.
The bright moment that illuminates this one memory is the Great Alaskan Earthquake of 1964. I was walking, alone, when suddenly my legs were swept out from under me, and I was on my knees wondering why I was still wobbling and how the earth beneath me wasn’t stable anymore. I looked up at the school and saw a crack had formed in its south wall. I looked to the right at my house, and saw a few bricks fall from the chimney. That was all — this was near Seattle, far from the epicenter — so damage was light, and maybe the worst of it for me was the abrupt loss of certainty. Not even the Earth could be trusted.
That house, though…
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Matthew Walther looks worse when he tries to clean himself up.
The scrubby mustache, the sweater vest and tweedy suit, the necktie, the sloppy part — I’m no fashion plate myself, but even I can see that that is the most twelve-year-old vision of a professional head shot I’ve ever seen. It’s good enough to get Matthew Walther a spot on the opinion page of the New York Times, though, which ran with a head shot that looks more natural, but just as unprofessional.
Oh, yeah, he wrote an opinion piece, which was accepted by the NY Times, telling people to not bother with voting, since he doesn’t bother himself. It’s garbage. I have no idea how it was accepted, since Walther is a nobody who has only published a few times in the page of conservative rags (they’ll take anything), and it’s a damned regressive, anti-American piece. I think it just reflects the atrocious mindset of the publishers.
They didn’t even fact check the thing. We have to go to Wonkette to see that Matthew Walther has voted, multiple times. He has even complained when he couldn’t vote, because he’d neglected to register. He’s a liar.
Par for the conservative course, though. At least the NYT felt it necessary to pare back the headline a bit.
It’s not much, but the lies kept getting pointed out, so the NYT had to make a third revision.
OK, OK, he had voted, but he wasn’t going to vote in the next election, pinky swear.
The appropriate response would have been to delete the opinion, and publicly announce the retraction, but this is the New Fucking York Fucking Times. They’ll probably invite him back to give more dishonest opinions in the future. After all, they’ve given Brooks and Friedman permanent sinecures, and it doesn’t matter how much they lie and mangle the facts.
I gave up reading the NY Times years ago, shortly after I gave up on Fox News as well. You should do likewise.
I hope you all like long tubular creatures, because that’s all I’ve got for you today. Maybe they’d be less horrifying if they had lots of legs?
Here’s a 4-meter long salamander-like beast from the Permian, named Gaiasia.
I’ve seen giant salamanders before, but not ones with big box-like skulls full of razor-sharp fangs.
Here’s another muscular tube, Vasuki indicus, only 47 million years old, but somewhere around 10-15 meters long.
The amusing thing about this beast is that everyone in the popular press treatment is making it all about how long it is — it’s a partial skeleton, there’s not enough to determine exactly how long it is. It’s either shorter than Titanoboa, the gold standard of giant ancient snakes, or bigger than Titanoboa. It’s not a competition, people! They’re separated by about 10 million years. But of course they’re in competition for starring roles in cheesy sci-fi CGI epics.
That’s why we’re seeing ridiculous comparisons like this one:
OK, the snake was longer than T. rex, but so what? It wasn’t as massive, and they were temporally distant from one another. This illustration reveals how some people are thinking:
That could be an ad for the next movie by The Asylum. These kinds of team-ups are popular to promote cheese, like Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla or Dracula vs. Frankenstein. Learn to love Vasuki for itself, OK?
This has been a strange election to witness from our side of the pond. The polls were saying way in advance that Labour was going to win, but nobody quite believed it. I know I was cynical.
Right up to the wire, Labour politicians could not quite believe they were on track for a historic election victory. Despite every poll for more than a year suggesting Keir Starmer would end up in No 10, they worried something could go wrong.
For some, it was the ghost of 1992, when the polls predicted Neil Kinnock was on course to take power, but in the end John Major’s Conservatives clung on. For others, it was their fear that after 14 years in opposition, Labour had lost the ability to win.
After all, in the last 100 years only three Labour leaders have ever won elections – Clement Attlee, Harold Wilson and Tony Blair – and the last of those was almost 20 years ago. No opposition leader has ever flipped a landslide defeat into a majority in a single term.
“I can’t help it,” one shadow cabinet member said. “I know everything points to a Labour win. But I still wake up at night in a cold sweat about it.” Yet with the exit poll indicating an overwhelming Labour victory, perhaps the doubtful can finally rest easy.
I guess the prediction actually came true.
Keir Starmer has said the “sunlight of hope” is now shining in Britain again as Labour won a landslide UK election victory, bringing a crushing end to 14 years of Conservative rule.
Wait…you’re telling me a nation can actually successfully kick a political party run by scandal-ridden conservative buffoons out of office? That gives me hope, except that the polls in the USA don’t show that kind of promise at all.
To temper any optimism, though, Nigel Farage won a few seats for his hateful party. Also, I have no idea what’s going on in France, but it doesn’t look good.
