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.
Here are a few carnival announcements, but otherwise talk about whatever comes to mind.
And remember, on Monday Encephalon will be posted here—so send me links to neuro-related articles.
The Tangled Bank will be at Living the Scientific Life on Wednesday—send those links to me or host@tangledbank.net.
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.
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)
Darwin Dating
Ready for another perversion of Darwin’s ideas? Take a look at Darwin Dating.
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.
As of 7:07AM Pacific time on 9 March, that is. I expect everyone to write me a poem in celebration. To start you all off, Richard Dawkins has set an example.
Don’t give me that cross-eyed look. It is not unusual that I inspire poetry, I’ll have you know.
I know I’m late getting to this article on “Darwin’s God” that was published last weekend…but I’ve been busy, OK? And to be honest, when I took a look at at, the first couple of paragraphs turned me off. These are silly rationalizations for god-belief.
Nah, I haven’t bothered to listen to the Luskin/Egnor podcast from the Discovery Institute—I trust Orac’s summary enough that I know it’s a load of the same arrogant, clueless BS he was spinning here a while back.
Three girls have been suspended from school because, during a reading of an excerpt from the Vagina Monologues, they used the word—get ready to be shocked—”vagina”.
Obviously, the girls should have consulted this list for a euphemism.
