Another Expelled roundup

The volume of email coming into my mailbox is a bit overwhelming right now — that silly story about getting expelled from Expelled was funny enough that it got picked up all over the world, an opportunity that you’d think some communications experts would use advantageously … but that’s another argument. There has been an uptick in nasty “I-will-pray-for-you-and-laugh-when-you-roast-in-hell” messages, but the majority have been positive, with a lot saying they like the site and are going to be return readers. This is not going to be an all-Expelled-all-the-time blog, however, despite the fact that right now most of my non-spam email seems to be about Expelled. Here, then, in one place, are some of the more interesting recent articles I’ve been sent about the fiasco, and then we’ll move on for the rest of the day.

  • Amanda Gefter got into a screening and reinforces our opinions: it’s a poorly made movie that clumsily tries to associate evolution with Hitler, and that the producer, Mark Mathis, is a bullying control freak. She also makes an excellent point: the Intelligent Design movement has been desperate to publicly distance itself from religion, yet this movie argues that ID is religious.

  • Scott Hatfield digs into the background of the Expelled team. It’s nutty fundagelical Christian kooks all the way down, with not an iota of science expertise among them. I know. That is so surprising.

  • Speaking of a complete absence of knowledge…ah, Uncommon Descent. UD has been having so much fun with this story, especially since one of our local sciencebloggers gave them some useful apologetics. Unfortunately for them, if you read the succession of accounts they give — and do note, none of these people were there — they are mutually contradictory and completely divorced from the facts. Trust me, their kind of sloppy, speculative, and false approach to a recent incident accurately parallels their explanations of life’s origins, too.

Oh. My. Dog.

I just got word that that pompous pimple, David Berlinski, is going to be at the Maclaurin Institute on the University of Minnesota campus on 17 April. Fortunately for me, I just this morning agreed to do an interview on Second Life on that date, so I have an excuse to avoid the supercilious snot. You might want to quickly find some reason to skip the event — is that your evening to wash your hair? Or take the dog for walkies (it might be worth it to get a dog for just that reason) — because there is no one else affiliated with the Discovery Institute more likely to infuriate you with his self-satisfied dimness.

Clueless

Matt Nisbet is currently running a photo of Dawkins and myself with this legend: Dawkins and Myers: It’s Time to Let Others Be the Spokespeople for Science. Never mind the personal criticism, doesn’t he even realize how wrong that statement is? No, it’s worse than that; it’s so bad it’s not even wrong.

Who are the “spokespeople for science”? Is this a formal title conferred on specific individuals, is there a protocol for defining who gets the job, and most importantly, is there a salary? Nisbet doesn’t seem to realize that there are no spokespeople for science — there are just people involved in science who speak out; I don’t know of anyone who even declares themselves to be self-appointed spokespeople for science, especially not me, and not even more prominent representatives like Dawkins. Anyone who mistakes me for one of these mythical spokespeople for science, instead of a guy working within science who happens to have a blog, is too stupid to be taken seriously.

There’s also this bizarre implication that it’s a position someone lets someone else have, as if Nisbet just has to follow some esoteric parliamentary rules of order and presto, someone can be defrocked of their spokesperson’s robes and they can be conferred on someone else. Preferably Nisbet himself, apparently. There is no such process and no such power. All anyone can do is write and talk, and if people listen to them, fine, if they don’t, no problem. There is no autocracy or hierarchy that defines who can do what in this business. All I’m doing is writing, so all he can do is carp at me to shut up…ineffectively, alas.

That statement alone is sufficient to demonstrate that Nisbet is utterly clueless about science, and discredit his opinions completely. And this is the fellow who organizes AAAS symposia to tell us what to do? Weird.

Besides, everyone knows that I’m not the spokesperson for science. I’m the Elvis Presley of atheism. Let’s get the royal titles straight.

Miseducation by the creationists

Watch this appalling video of homeschoolers misusing the Denver museum to promote creationism. Aside from the general pattern of lies from the tour guides, two things jumped out at me.

The really awful pedagogy. Over and over again, the creationist says some stock phrase and then pauses, waiting for his kids to fill in the missing word. This is simply demanding rote learning. Similarly, he leads the kids in asking a good question — “how do you know?” — while training them to ignore any answers. Right there on the wall is a description of radiometric dating methods, for instance, and they turn their back on it.

Then there is the twisted logic. T. rex has big sharp teeth; they know, though, that he was a vegetarian, because “if this creature was designed to eat meat from the very start, what would he have to do until Adam and Eve sinned, and death entered the world? What would he have to do? Fast and pray for the Fall.” Oh, and of course, he then says, “Is that likely? Everyone look at me and say…<pause>no. Try that with me…no.”

This is child abuse. Those kids are getting their heads stuffed with ignorance.

At least this news report is unsympathetic.

(via Sandwalk)

Return of the Manimal

Britain is experiencing some dissent over research on human-animal hybrid embryos. One the one hand, you’ve got researchers and charities arguing that this is a technique to probe deeper into the genetic and molecular properties of developing organisms, and is key to developing treatments for genetic diseases and developmental abnormalities; on the other side, we have plaintive lowing from the do-nothings and ignoramuses about the “sacredness” of human life, and kneejerk rejection by the usual collection of suspects, the Catholic church.

In his Easter address today, Cardinal Keith O’Brien, the head of the Roman Catholic Church in Scotland, will describe plans to allow hybrid human-animal embryos as “monstrous”.

I addressed this a couple of years ago when Bush wanted to ban this kind of research (by the way, we aren’t ahead of the Brits in this game; they’re at least discussing this, while our government has mostly acted to shut this work down, leaving little to argue over). This is not a science-fiction project to create half-human slave labor or anything silly like that — it is serious research in early development that puts human disease-related forms of genes into animal models so that we can try experimental treatments. “Monstrous” would be taking risks or doing experiments on Down syndrome children; humane would be inducing an analog of Down syndrome in mice so that we can figure out causes and treatments of health problems in an informed way. I would also put using ignorance and medieval dogma to prevent biomedical research in the “monstrous” category, but then, I put just about everything about the Catholic church in that bin.

Just so everyone knows precisely where I’m coming from, though, in addition to appreciating the practical value of hybrid research for alleviating human suffering, I also think all forms of reproductive biotechnology are just plain cool. Some people think the next revolution in humanity will be an outcome of advances in neuroscience and technology (the geek rapture), but I’m inclined to think that the most significant changes in how we think about who we are are going to arise from radical reproductive technologies.

Two local events

One of the many virtues of my university is that, because of our history and policies, we get better than average contact with Native American cultures. Tonight, at 7:30 in Edson Auditorium, we get to hear from Sherman Alexie.

Sherman Alexie (b. October 7, 1966 Spokane, WA) is a prolific artist who is
an accomplished writer, poet, stand-up comedian, screenwriter, director,
and editor. He is a Spokane/Coeur d’Alene Indian who grew up on the Spokane
Indian Reservation in Wellpinit, WA. He attended high school in Spokane, WA
and graduated in American Studies from Washington State University. Alexie
has published 18 books to date, including his most recent novels are Flight
and a young adult novel, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian,
which received the 2007 National Book Award Young People’s Literature
Award. In 1999 his film Smoke Signals received a Christopher Award, and was
nominated for the 1999 Independent Spirit Award for Best First Screenplay.

Tomorrow, same place and time, it’s Bill Miller.

Bill Miller (born 1955) is an American, Grammy Award-winning
singer/songwriter of Mohican heritage. He was born on the
Stockbridge-Munsee reservation, near Shawano in northern Wisconsin.

Miller’s Mohican name is ‘Fush-Ya Heay Aka (meaning “bird song”). He began
playing guitar when he was 12 years old, and is an accomplished player of
the Native American flute). In 1973, he moved to Milwaukee and won an art
school scholarship; today he is an accomplished artist whose drawings and
paintings have been widely praised.

In 1984, he moved to Nashville. His biggest break came when popular
musician Tori Amos, after listening to his Red Road CD on her tour bus,
asked him to serve as the opening act on her Under the Pink tour. Miller
continuously gained fans with other artists from a broad musical spectrum.
He went on to tour with diverse musicians such as Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder,
The BoDeans, Richie Havens, and Arlo Guthrie and wrote songs with artists
such as Nanci Griffith, Peter Rowan and Kim Carnes.

In 2005, Miller’s instrumental Cedar Dream Songs won a Grammy award for
“Best Native American Music Album”. Miller has collaborated with other
notable Native American musicians such as Robert Mirabal, R. Carlos Nakai,
and Joanne Shenandoah. His project with Mirabal, Native Suite was an
experimental and traditional project, featuring flute and percussion, as
well as Mohican pow-wow singing.

I’m hoping to make it to the Alexie talk, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away for Miller’s, unfortunately — the first week back from spring break is a busy time.

An admission from Mark Mathis

My account of the affair at the Mall of America has been confirmed by none other than the movie producer, who wrote to Denyse O’Leary:

You should know that I invited Michael shermer to a screening at NRB in Nashville. He came and is writing a review for scientific American. I banned pz because I want him to pay to see it. Nothing more.

This is what I’ve been saying all along; I was not “unruly”, nor was I “gatecrashing”; Mathis saw me there, and on a petty, arbitrary, vindictive whim decided to have me thrown out without legitimate cause. It really is that simple. That is how creationists operate.

Hey, now Mathis repeats the same thing in IHE.

Mathis later confirmed in an e-mail that he had barred Myers from the screening. “Yes, I turned Mr. Myers away. He was not an invited guest of Premise Media. This was a private screening of an unfinished film. I could have let him in, just as I invited Michael Shermer to a screening in Nashville. Shermer is in the film as well. But, in light of Myers’ untruthful blogging about Expelled I decided it was better to have him wait until April 18 and pay to see the film. Others, notable others, were permitted to see the film. At a private screening it’s my call.

“Unlike the Darwinist establishment, we expell no one.”

Unless it’s someone they don’t like.

(The IHE article isn’t very good — it’s the usual media mush that runs away from the idea of actually calling idiocy idiocy.)

Om lingalingalinalinga, kilikili

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The laughing fellow on the left is Sanal Edamaruku, president of Rationalist International and atheist. The cranky old man in the robes on the right is Pandit Surinder Sharma, a self-described Tantrik Magician. The scene is in a studio on Indian television, where the magician is trying to kill the atheist with sorcery. Sharma had said he could kill anyone with sympathetic magic inflicted on a doll made of dough, and that he could accomplish this in a mere three minutes … so Edamaruku confidently offered himself as a victim. The old fake went on for hours and failed.

After nearly two hours, the anchor declared the tantrik’s failure. The tantrik, unwilling to admit defeat, tried the excuse that a very strong god whom Sanal might be worshipping obviously protected him. “No, I am an atheist,” said Sanal Edamaruku. Finally, the disgraced tantrik tried to save his face by claiming that there was a never-failing special black magic for ultimate destruction, which could, however, only been done at night. Bad luck again, he did not get away with this, but was challenged to prove his claim this very night in another “breaking news” live program.

Edamaruku obliged and willing went to his “doom” that night.

The encounter took place under the open night sky. The tantrik and his two assistants were kindling a fire and staring into the flames. Sanal was in good humour. Once the ultimate magic was invoked, there wouldn’t be any way back, the tantrik warned. Within two minutes, Sanal would get crazy, and one minute later he would scream in pain and die. Didn’t he want to save his life before it was too late? Sanal laughed, and the countdown begun. The tantriks chanted their “Om lingalingalingalinga, kilikilikili….” followed by ever changing cascades of strange words and sounds. The speed increased hysterically. They threw all kinds of magic ingredients into the flames that produced changing colours, crackling and fizzling sounds and white smoke. While chanting, the tantrik came close to Sanal, moved his hands in front of him and touched him, but was called back by the anchor. After the earlier covert attempts of the tantrik to use force against Sanal, he was warned to keep distance and avoid touching Sanal. But the tantrik “forgot” this rule again and again.

Now the tantrik wrote Sanal’s name on a sheet of paper, tore it into small pieces, dipped them into a pot with boiling butter oil and threw them dramatically into the flames. Nothing happened. Singing and singing, he sprinkled water on Sanal, mopped a bunch of peacock feathers over his head, threw mustard seed into the fire and other outlandish things more. Sanal smiled, nothing happened, and time was running out. Only seven more minutes before midnight, the tantrik decided to use his ultimate weapon: the clod of wheat flour dough. He kneaded it and powdered it with mysterious ingredients, then asked Sanal to touch it. Sanal did so, and the grand magic finale begun. The tantrik pierced blunt nails on the dough, then cut it wildly with a knife and threw them into the fire. That moment, Sanal should have broken down. But he did not. He laughed. Forty more seconds, counted the anchor, twenty, ten, five… it’s over!

This sounds fun! I’ve been getting email lately from creationists telling me I should die, I should be fired, I should suffer horribly, but all they do is whine that they’re going to mumble to their god to have me destroyed. They should take a lesson from their Indian brethren and start using flash powder and chanting nonsense syllables — it would be no more effective, but it would be much more entertaining.