Me, at a philosophy talk?

I just know John Wilkins is going to gasp in horror and write frantic letters to Pieranna Garavaso, the organizer, telling her she’s making a horrible mistake, but I’m going to be on a panel at the 31st Midwest Philosophy Colloquium on 26 March, here in Morris, at (zut alors!) the Newman Center just off campus. Perhaps you too are reeling at that cascade of improbable associations, but really, it makes sense. Eric Olson of the University of Sheffield is giving a talk on defining the boundaries of the beginning and end of human life, so they dug up a local biologist, me, to contribute a bit to the discussion, along with Mark Collier, local philosopher, and Ben Waterworth, local student. Here’s the short summary:

The gradual nature of development from fertilization to birth and beyond leaves it uncertain when we cease to exist. Many philosophers have tried to answer these questions. Olson will argue that most of these answers are wrong and that a simpler answer follows from the apparent fact that we are biological organisms.

I was a little concerned — “simpler answer” in these discussions too often means “stupid answer” — but a quick skim of a few of his papers tells me he’s got some interesting ideas, and that I’m going to have to do some studying over spring break. I see a few places in his argument where I might disagree, but I have to dig a bit deeper and see if he’s already covered my issues elsewhere.

Cephalart

You’re all wondering where the Friday Cephalopod might be…it’s delayed. I’m spending my day in seclusion in my secret lair, hammering out some work that’s already way overdue, and I don’t have access to a scanner or my books or any technology beyond the necessities for writing. I will put it up later.

For now, you’ll have to make do with some cephalart.

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A plumbing parable

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My kitchen sink has a problem. Something has broken inside the Moen faucet, so that the handle is loose and only marginally effective. I’m thinking I should run down to the hardware store and get a new faucet assembly, and get under the sink with a pipe wrench. It shouldn’t be too difficult.

Right away, I run into an obstacle. I get down to the basement to fetch my wrench, and there’s one of the local ministers sitting on the toolbox. “Have you tried the incredible power of prayer yet, son?” he asked. I said no, of course not. I’m trying to fix a broken faucet. And then he gave me one of those pitying looks and tried to convince me that not only could Jesus fix my faucet, he would give me wine on tap. So I told him to get his fat ass off my toolbox and out of my house, and he stomped off.

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You’ve got to respect tradition

In Serbia, vandals broke into Slobodan Milosevic’s tomb and drove a stake through his heart to keep him from “returning from the dead to haunt the country”. I think that’s utterly charming.

When I go, I’d figured the best plan would be to donate my body to science, or to be cremated…but now I’m thinking it would be really cool if crazed folk dug my body up, chopped it to bits, put a stake through it, and maybe paraded the head around town on a pike. I wonder if there is a funeral plan for that?

(via The Pagan Prattle)

Really, it’s just the blink of an eye on a geological scale

Whoa, I asked for poems for my birthday, I got poems. That was quite a response, and it had me regretting the fact that I didn’t demand money. I could have retired by now.

On top of that, GrrlScientist, Bora, and Archy are compiling lists of birthday greetings, so I can just pop over there and browse through everything you people have written. It brings a tear to the eye, it does, especially since this is a day demanding I do lots and lots of work and not leaving me much time for cruising through the web.

Next week, though, I’ll return the favor: there’s Lynn Margulis’s blog tour on Monday, and since it’s Spring break and I’ll actually be able to relax with some free time, I’ve got a couple of science posts to scribble up — cool stuff with weird invertebrates.