SciAm, how could you?

As another sign of the ongoing decline of our traditional science media, Scientific American runs a superficial article on plastic surgery with a rather dubious source.

We spoke with osteopathic physician Lionel Bissoon to help us get to the bottom (so to speak) of some of the cellulite hoopla. Bissoon runs a clinic for mesotherapy (injections of homeopathic extracts, vitamins and/or medicine designed to reduce the appearance of cellulite) in New York City, and is the author of the book The Cellulite Cure published in 2006.

Why, SciAm, why?

Also, I had to gag on the guys analysis of cellulite as a modern problem — he look at old photo albums from the 40s-60s, and “women had perfect legs”, despite not having photoshop. Does he really think they didn’t have photo retouching in the days before personal computers? Or that women’s legs have suddenly developed a fundamental difference in the last 50 years?

50 years ago, Scientific American also had a little more rigor.

Happy news!

Look at what’s happening to the opinion on religion in our country:

Historically, the percentage of Americans who said they had no religious affiliation (pollsters refer to this group as the “nones”) has been very small — hovering between 5 percent and 10 percent.

However, Putnam says the percentage of “nones” has now skyrocketed to between 30 percent and 40 percent among younger Americans.

Putnam calls this a “stunning development.” He gave reporters a first glimpse of his data Tuesday at a conference on religion organized by the Pew Forum on Faith in Public Life.

It’s a poll, so it doesn’t say much about causes, but I can guess that two factors have been at work: that religion has become associated with the spectacular failure of reactionary conservative politics, and that at the same time, atheists have become more vocal and made the option of avoiding religion altogether viable. I suspect the former is more directly causal, but don’t discount the latter — young people aren’t leaving their obnoxious old church to find a new church, they are leaving the whole rotten shebang altogether.

Was halten Sie von der Katholischen Kirche?

You should be flattered. The Germans are asking you — yes, you, that person sitting at your computer — what you think of the Catholic Church. When Germany asks, you must answer.

What do you think of the Catholic Church?

35% Sie ist eine gute und wichtige Institution (it is a good and important institution)
20% Sie hat gute und schlechte Seiten (It has good and bad times)
34% Sie ist überflüssig (It is superfluous)
11% Sie ist mir egal (It doesn’t matter to me)

That first answer needs to be knocked down a peg or two, I think.

A non-pointless poll?

You know how I feel about the uselessness of internet polls, so you can guess how my feelings are mixed by this one. It’s a good cause: grants are being given for preservation of historic places in Boston. But they’re allocating funds on the basis of votes in an internet poll! This isn’t even a proper popularity contest, because polls are so easily skewed.

Anyway, go vote. I went for the New England Aquarium for obvious reasons, but there are several worthy sites: a museum of African American history, for instance, or a ballet theatre. There are even churches (lots of churches) on the list, and despite my biases there, I wouldn’t even count those out, if they are of historical value. The Old North Church is there — that’s worth keeping around.

Still, what a weird way to distribute funds. Wouldn’t it be better to do this with an informed committee, that could actually look at need and value objectively? Maybe the New England Aquarium is flush with money, while the Salem Old Town Hall is crumbling into disrepair…I don’t know! And they’re asking me to determine who gets a grant?

Maybe it’s not a pointless poll. It’s just a misdirected poll.

Mormon ghoulishness exposed

Five months before the election, and thirteen years after her death, the Mormon Church posthumously baptized Barack Obama’s mother into their church. This is a common practice. It’s harmless and stupid, but it does highlight the fact that the church is a collection of ghouls. They’re also chronic liars about it all.

Mormon Church spokeswoman Kim Farah said that “the offering of baptism to our deceased ancestors is a sacred practice to us and it is counter to Church policy for a Church member to submit names for baptism for persons to whom they are not related. The Church is looking into the circumstances of how this happened and does not yet have all the facts. However, this is a serious matter and we are treating it as such.”

She’s lying. The church is slack about who submits the names — they maintain vast genealogical records, records that are continually growing as they scavenge the world for more information, and they rather freely toss the names into the baptismal font.

They only regard it as a serious matter because they’ve been caught at it. It’s one good sign: they have a little bit of shame left. But, you know, it’s kind of like visiting the graveyard and discovering that a ghoul has dug up your grandma; maybe he looks a bit abashed and quickly hides a gnawed-upon femur behind his back, but that wins him no sympathy and you still have to choke back your disgust and revulsion, and resist the urge to kick him until he is bruised and bloody.

Republicans can’t even admit their anti-evolution leanings

Chris Matthews ask Representative Mike Pence a simple question — “Do you believe in evolution?” — and Pence spends 5 minutes squirming avoiding giving an answer. He changes the subject repeatedly, to global warming and stem cells, and tries to pretend that the Republican party doesn’t have a serious problem with an anti-science agenda, which he himself is demonstrating.

I have to commend Matthews, too: he bulldogs that question and won’t let it go. Let’s see more of that from our media, please.

Roger Ebert, humanist

Best read of the day: Roger Ebert muses on mortality.

I don’t expect to die anytime soon. But it could happen this moment, while I am writing. I was talking the other day with Jim Toback, a friend of 35 years, and the conversation turned to our deaths, as it always does. “Ask someone how they feel about death,” he said, “and they’ll tell you everyone’s gonna die. Ask them, In the next 30 seconds? No, no, no, that’s not gonna happen. How about this afternoon? No. What you’re really asking them to admit is, Oh my God, I don’t really exist and I might be gone at any given second.”

Me too, but I hope not. I have plans. Still, this blog has led me resolutely toward the contemplation of death. In the beginning I found myself drawn toward writing about my life. Everyone’s life story is awaiting only the final page. Then I began writing on the subject of evolution, that most consoling of all the sciences, and was engulfed in an unforeseen discussion about God, the afterlife, and religion.

I like that bit about the consolation of evolution — I feel it too, that having a connection to both our long history and our future is really the province of evolution, and that this is where we can find deeper meaning.

The thought of dying any time is real, too. In my case, it’s the awareness that I’m only about 4 years away from having outlived my father (although he also suffered over a dozen long years of heart disease, a history I’ve avoided so far). We could any of us go at any time, and as godless folk, our only relief from melancholy has to be in the taking of joy in reality.