Must catch up on neglected linkage. Must take nap. Everyone is on their own for a little while as I try to get my brain out of its fog. I’m too old to skip an entire night’s worth of sleep.
Despite a miserable red-eye flight — I left San Jose at 6:30 last night, and arrived in Minneapolis at 4am, followed by my familiar long drive home — I’ll try to say a few words about Sci Foo.
Short version: weirdest meeting ever. That’s a good thing, though.
Well, I’m afraid we’re going to have to start a blog war with Creek Running North since he is neglecting his bloggy duties by shunning blog wars. It’s Catch-22, man—refusing to feud is an insult that instigates a feud.
Does he really imagine that people might read his writing simply because they like his writing, without the extraneous conflict motif to motivate us? What species does he belong to, anyway?
Carl Zimmer is collecting examples of scientists with tattoos having a science theme. Got a tattoo? Send him a picture!
There is a weird comment about reluctance to show off these things if you don’t have tenure yet … I really don’t think skin art is one of the considerations in tenure decisions, though. At least it’s never come up in any of the reviews I’ve been involved in, although perhaps photos of artfully inked buttocks would enliven those often deadly dull tenure files.
The atheists, skeptics, and secular humanists of Fresno have formed up and consolidate, and now they’re looking for a name for their group. Since, in the absence of an infusion of God’s creative will, they couldn’t possibly come up with an idea of their own, they’ve started a contest to come up with an appropriate label for their nest of elitist vipers in the bosom of Christendom. Can someone here think of a good name?
It’s true — there probably isn’t another “PZ Myers” in the country…at least, that’s what the “Is this your name?” site says. Go ahead, plug your name in.
Go read Carnival of the Godless #72.
Then Revere’s Sunday Sermonette takes on the clueless Steven D. Levitt.
Hemant links to the freakiest mindset. This is not a satire, although I wish it were.
Jesus implies that those who brought him this news thought he would say that those who died, deserved to die, and that those who didn’t die did not deserve to die. That is not what he said. He said, everyone deserves to die. And if you and I don’t repent, we too will perish. This is a stunning response. It only makes sense from a view of reality that is radically oriented on God.
All of us have sinned against God, not just against man. This is an outrage ten thousand times worse than the collapse of the 35W bridge. That any human is breathing at this minute on this planet is sheer mercy from God. God makes the sun rise and the rain fall on those who do not treasure him above all else. He causes the heart to beat and the lungs to work for millions of people who deserve his wrath. This is a view of reality that desperately needs to be taught in our churches, so that we are prepared for the calamities of the world.
I’m sorry, but the author of that piece is an evil freak representing an all too common view that can’t help but cripple our culture. You do not deserve to die. God is not keeping you alive. You will one day perish whether you repent or not, and your goal now should be to live this one life you have as well as you can.
I’ve got to get back to my meeting, but Cosma just had to distract me with these classic video clips on dissecting the squid giant axon, including movies of one of my personal heroes, JZ Young (pronounced, as everyone knows, as jay-zed), in action. It’s beautiful stuff.
This is the most perfect description of me on the interwebs.
Pharyngula is a blog run by a science professor named P.Z Myers. Not only does Mr Myers believe in the fantasy of evilution, but every year he milks thousands and thousands of dollars out of the education system to indoctrinate children into his hateful cult. Like most liberal educators at America’s secular colleges, Myers lives a life of luxury at taxpayers’ expense—taking long vacations with his trophy wife, driving expensive foreign cars, dressing his children in exclusive fashions—all the while promoting his vengeful and deceitful ideology.
It could have been a little more complete, though, and mentioned my cosmopolitan lifestyle, my wastrel hedonism by day, and my mansion with the secret cave underneath, in which I lurk by night.
Despite all the flattery, though, I’m still not voting for Sam Brownback.
Another busy day ahead of me: yesterday I met Alex and Bora, shared a dinner table with James Randi, and saw swarms of other people I have to meet today … so off I go to another series of random encounters.
