"Studying Tiny Fruit Flies, and Reaping Big Rewards"
By JENNIFER MEDINA
Published: April 29, 2006, New York Times
"ALBANY, April 28 — A California neuroscientist and biologist whose research of fruit flies found genetic links to human behavior was awarded the $500,000 Albany Medical Center Prize in Medicine and Biomedical Research, the country's largest award in the field."
"Some of Dr. Benzer's most widely known research came when he used fruit flies to explore the way genes affect sleep patterns. He found that some fruit flies were genetically programmed to sleep at abnormal times, but that injecting them with normal genes would change that.
Similarly, Dr. Benzer said, he is coded to sleep at different times than his wife, who wakes up at 6 a.m. and typically falls asleep by 10 p.m. Dr. Benzer, on the other hand, stays awake until 4 a.m. and sleeps until noon. He routinely works in his research laboratory into the early-morning hours, he said.
"We make it a point to have dinner together," he said."
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Neighbors and Star Trek Memories
When I was little, 4? 5? my family had a TV for about a year. I watched a variety of kids programs, and other things. I remember Mighty Mouse, and The Mickey Mouse Club, and Gumby, and The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone. My parents, on observation, decided that the TV was bad for us, my brother’s grades were falling and he had become belligerent about being allowed to watch his favorite shows. So they gave it away.
As a result I grew up without a TV. This had a number of effects. I read voraciously, it was my main entertainment, which helped me stay way ahead of my peers intellectually. I played outside a lot, and developed a great attraction to our world and all the living things in nature. I also lacked the basic social common ground of favorite TV shows. I was often confused or shocked by terms and phrases my peers used, not knowing the popular shows they came from. It perhaps made me even more of an outsider than I would have been anyhow. I like the fact that I am well read and well rounded, so I can’t say I regret it. I do wonder how my brother felt, having something he wanted and adored given away like that, when it could have been kept.
I did see a bit of TV here and there, while babysitting as a teenager or when over at friend’s houses. At some point I discovered the reruns of Star Trek. I loved it. I adored Spock. It was amusing actually, as in 5th grade I had been called Spock by some classmates, and I had no idea to what they were referring. In any case, I ended up trotting across the street to a neighbors house to watch Star Trek every day. They had seven boys and one girl, and one of the younger boys was my age. We were all friendly and their house was pleasantly chaotic and no one minded me being rapt in front of the TV every day for an hour. So I watched the series through, and through again, and again.
Just tonight I wondered, what if they had minded? What if they had wanted to watch something else on TV in that time slot?
What if the addition of yet another child to the house was a burden? Not that I think any of those things are likely to have been true, but how would I have felt, relying on something someone else had, for something I desperately wanted? Would it have burned me not to have it? Would envy and longing have eaten at me? Knowing myself, I don’t think so, but can I be sure? What if I could watch it only on occasional days, and never know in advance which days those were. I do recall that I missed days, for one reason and another, which was a great excuse for watching the series over and over.
At the root, my question is about covetousness, and wanting that which is not yours. It is not something I am generally prone to. But on occasion there is something that someone else has easy access to that I never will have, something I WANT. It is a great unpleasantness, yes? I can understand why one of the Ten Commandments has to do with envy or covetousness, for things (specifically your neighbor’s house, or donkey) or people (specifically your neighbors husband, maid, slave). Of course the Ten commandments are truly followed by few people now. For example, how many people do no work on the Sabbath (whether you consider it Saturday or Sunday) and/or do not take advantage of those who do? But in truth coveting can be a powerful destructive force in a community or a society.
What about withholding? If one could freely give what another desires, is it not a bad thing to fail to do so? Of course one can send one self down a long road of guilt for all one has not done that one could have.
In any case, my neighbors were kind to me, and I am sad that all the children are long gone to the various corners of the country, and that June, the family matriarch, has had health problems and has been moved to Washington D.C., in with her youngest son. This all happened at Christmas time, and I was visiting my parents and I was told what day Paul was arriving to pick her up from the hospital pack her up and take her back east. And I, dawdling for no good reason, missed them. I should drive out to D.C. from here to go visit. If I do not, I may never see her again. She and her family were the only neighbors who were really close to my parents and my brother and I. My parents are now more alone then they were....
Well, enough late night meanderings.
As a result I grew up without a TV. This had a number of effects. I read voraciously, it was my main entertainment, which helped me stay way ahead of my peers intellectually. I played outside a lot, and developed a great attraction to our world and all the living things in nature. I also lacked the basic social common ground of favorite TV shows. I was often confused or shocked by terms and phrases my peers used, not knowing the popular shows they came from. It perhaps made me even more of an outsider than I would have been anyhow. I like the fact that I am well read and well rounded, so I can’t say I regret it. I do wonder how my brother felt, having something he wanted and adored given away like that, when it could have been kept.
I did see a bit of TV here and there, while babysitting as a teenager or when over at friend’s houses. At some point I discovered the reruns of Star Trek. I loved it. I adored Spock. It was amusing actually, as in 5th grade I had been called Spock by some classmates, and I had no idea to what they were referring. In any case, I ended up trotting across the street to a neighbors house to watch Star Trek every day. They had seven boys and one girl, and one of the younger boys was my age. We were all friendly and their house was pleasantly chaotic and no one minded me being rapt in front of the TV every day for an hour. So I watched the series through, and through again, and again.
Just tonight I wondered, what if they had minded? What if they had wanted to watch something else on TV in that time slot?
What if the addition of yet another child to the house was a burden? Not that I think any of those things are likely to have been true, but how would I have felt, relying on something someone else had, for something I desperately wanted? Would it have burned me not to have it? Would envy and longing have eaten at me? Knowing myself, I don’t think so, but can I be sure? What if I could watch it only on occasional days, and never know in advance which days those were. I do recall that I missed days, for one reason and another, which was a great excuse for watching the series over and over.
At the root, my question is about covetousness, and wanting that which is not yours. It is not something I am generally prone to. But on occasion there is something that someone else has easy access to that I never will have, something I WANT. It is a great unpleasantness, yes? I can understand why one of the Ten Commandments has to do with envy or covetousness, for things (specifically your neighbor’s house, or donkey) or people (specifically your neighbors husband, maid, slave). Of course the Ten commandments are truly followed by few people now. For example, how many people do no work on the Sabbath (whether you consider it Saturday or Sunday) and/or do not take advantage of those who do? But in truth coveting can be a powerful destructive force in a community or a society.
What about withholding? If one could freely give what another desires, is it not a bad thing to fail to do so? Of course one can send one self down a long road of guilt for all one has not done that one could have.
In any case, my neighbors were kind to me, and I am sad that all the children are long gone to the various corners of the country, and that June, the family matriarch, has had health problems and has been moved to Washington D.C., in with her youngest son. This all happened at Christmas time, and I was visiting my parents and I was told what day Paul was arriving to pick her up from the hospital pack her up and take her back east. And I, dawdling for no good reason, missed them. I should drive out to D.C. from here to go visit. If I do not, I may never see her again. She and her family were the only neighbors who were really close to my parents and my brother and I. My parents are now more alone then they were....
Well, enough late night meanderings.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Babies and Baseball
When you meet a stranger what do you speak of? There are topics of conversation that can serve as common ground for strangers in a social setting. For the young it is relatively easy, pop culture, music, school. This is complicated by the addition of physical appearance and gender of course, is one attractive? cool? of the same “tribe” as a friend of mine put it? If you are female and wearing silver rings on multiple fingers and so am I than we may be of the same “tribe”. Goths proclaim themselves with their black clothes, the popular kids by their physiques and current fashion. The process is easy, if fraught with snobbery and cliquishness. The young are more cruel than adults.
For adults it can be trickier though. People become set in their ways and expectations. Location becomes important, common experience very important. As a college professor, if I am dumped into a group of other college professors, or scientists, or even academics in general, I am fine, but such groups are not that common.
In New York City, where I lived for ten years, strangers speak of their jobs, what part of the metropolis they live in, politics, culture, travel. These are common ground for New Yorkers in general. Once you get out into more typical American cities, suburbs, and towns these topics become uncommon. Instead, men speak of sports, cars, and to a lesser extent, their jobs. Women speak of husbands and children, sometimes shopping.
If you are man who has no interest in sports or cars, or if you are a woman past youth who has never been married or had babies, it is exceedingly hard to participate in these initial ice-breaking conversations. What do you do when the common ground is not in fact in common? I can talk about the weather of course. I like weather. But too often I slip and talk about my job or politics too quickly to strangers. Soon I am the strange one in the room. I long to be back in the company of academics, or simply my own company.
I am just not interested in talking about babies or baseball.
For adults it can be trickier though. People become set in their ways and expectations. Location becomes important, common experience very important. As a college professor, if I am dumped into a group of other college professors, or scientists, or even academics in general, I am fine, but such groups are not that common.
In New York City, where I lived for ten years, strangers speak of their jobs, what part of the metropolis they live in, politics, culture, travel. These are common ground for New Yorkers in general. Once you get out into more typical American cities, suburbs, and towns these topics become uncommon. Instead, men speak of sports, cars, and to a lesser extent, their jobs. Women speak of husbands and children, sometimes shopping.
If you are man who has no interest in sports or cars, or if you are a woman past youth who has never been married or had babies, it is exceedingly hard to participate in these initial ice-breaking conversations. What do you do when the common ground is not in fact in common? I can talk about the weather of course. I like weather. But too often I slip and talk about my job or politics too quickly to strangers. Soon I am the strange one in the room. I long to be back in the company of academics, or simply my own company.
I am just not interested in talking about babies or baseball.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Moral War?
An interview with the Rev. Richard Land from March 23,2006
“A Christian Defense of the War in Iraq"
"Removing a dictator, introducing democracy, staying the course in difficult times--it's right, noble, and it's just.
As president of the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission of the 16 million-member Southern Baptist Convention, the Rev. Richard Land is one of the most influential moral voices on the conservative Christian scene. He spoke to Beliefnet's Holly Lebowitz Rossi about why, as a Christian, he supports the war in Iraq as much today as he did when it began 3 years ago.”
http://www.beliefnet.com/story/188/story_18823_1.html
It continually amazes me that there are many Americans have no problem with deceptions and manipulations aimed at facilitating the start of a war that has now killed 2347 Americans in the military and wounded another 17, 469 - let alone the 34,000 or so Iraqis killed. These fellow countrymen are willing to believe that Iraq posed a direct threat to the U.S. in spite of all evidence to the contrary, and have no issue that we have left many more directly threatening and/or genocidal regimes in other countries untouched. Yet, these same people, willing to accept our leaders’ pursuit of this war, by whatever means, were disgusted and appalled by the previous President allowing an eager adult intern to perform a sexual act on him, and then being deceptive and manipulative about it.
Which deception is more detrimental to the lives of our fellow Americans, our position in the world, and out future? Which actually causes the most harm? What kind of “morality” is this?
Many of the people that think Clinton should have been impeached and think that GW Bush is a hero consider themselves strong Christians. What kind of Christianity is this? How often did Jesus preach against violence, preach for peace? How often did he preach against sex?
Of course there are many Americans who do not agree with the war, and undoubtedly the majority of Christians world-wide do not agree with it. There are too many who do think like the author of the quote at the top. Or perhaps, too many people like that in positions of power.
Why do religious extremists of so many stripes promote killing? Why is deception about adultry so much worse than deception to engage in a war that will kill thousands and thousands of people? Why is death so much less abhorrant than sex?
http://icasualties.org/oif/
http://www.iraqbodycount.org/
“A Christian Defense of the War in Iraq"
"Removing a dictator, introducing democracy, staying the course in difficult times--it's right, noble, and it's just.
As president of the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission of the 16 million-member Southern Baptist Convention, the Rev. Richard Land is one of the most influential moral voices on the conservative Christian scene. He spoke to Beliefnet's Holly Lebowitz Rossi about why, as a Christian, he supports the war in Iraq as much today as he did when it began 3 years ago.”
http://www.beliefnet.com/story/188/story_18823_1.html
It continually amazes me that there are many Americans have no problem with deceptions and manipulations aimed at facilitating the start of a war that has now killed 2347 Americans in the military and wounded another 17, 469 - let alone the 34,000 or so Iraqis killed. These fellow countrymen are willing to believe that Iraq posed a direct threat to the U.S. in spite of all evidence to the contrary, and have no issue that we have left many more directly threatening and/or genocidal regimes in other countries untouched. Yet, these same people, willing to accept our leaders’ pursuit of this war, by whatever means, were disgusted and appalled by the previous President allowing an eager adult intern to perform a sexual act on him, and then being deceptive and manipulative about it.
Which deception is more detrimental to the lives of our fellow Americans, our position in the world, and out future? Which actually causes the most harm? What kind of “morality” is this?
Many of the people that think Clinton should have been impeached and think that GW Bush is a hero consider themselves strong Christians. What kind of Christianity is this? How often did Jesus preach against violence, preach for peace? How often did he preach against sex?
Of course there are many Americans who do not agree with the war, and undoubtedly the majority of Christians world-wide do not agree with it. There are too many who do think like the author of the quote at the top. Or perhaps, too many people like that in positions of power.
Why do religious extremists of so many stripes promote killing? Why is deception about adultry so much worse than deception to engage in a war that will kill thousands and thousands of people? Why is death so much less abhorrant than sex?
http://icasualties.org/oif/
http://www.iraqbodycount.org/
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
How lucky we are!
How lucky we are,
To have hot, hot, water for a bath or shower on a cold winter day.
To have electricity to light our way in the small hours
To have ripe mangos in March in the north.
To be able to walk into a metal ship that flies through the air to visit ones we love, thousands of miles away
To have music, magnificent music, at the touch of a button
To have soft beds and full stomachs
To be able to pick up the phone and hear a friends voice
To have information on multitudes of subjects available at our fingertips
To be able to know what is happening, at this moment, all over the world
To be able to meet those of like minds, wherever they may be on this planet, not having to make do with those you run into in you local community, as our parents did.
To have conversations with those people, singly or in groups in simulaneous print in Austarlia, France, Sweden, wherever, whenever.
To have the luxury of learning
To be able to do so much more than just survive
How lucky we are!
We live in a world full of magic and marvels, the likes of which our ancestors could not conceive of. And I, and I understand things which were inconceivable not long ago. It is a fabulous age we live in.
Do not forget it.
Do not forget it
Do not forget it.
How lucky we are!
To have hot, hot, water for a bath or shower on a cold winter day.
To have electricity to light our way in the small hours
To have ripe mangos in March in the north.
To be able to walk into a metal ship that flies through the air to visit ones we love, thousands of miles away
To have music, magnificent music, at the touch of a button
To have soft beds and full stomachs
To be able to pick up the phone and hear a friends voice
To have information on multitudes of subjects available at our fingertips
To be able to know what is happening, at this moment, all over the world
To be able to meet those of like minds, wherever they may be on this planet, not having to make do with those you run into in you local community, as our parents did.
To have conversations with those people, singly or in groups in simulaneous print in Austarlia, France, Sweden, wherever, whenever.
To have the luxury of learning
To be able to do so much more than just survive
How lucky we are!
We live in a world full of magic and marvels, the likes of which our ancestors could not conceive of. And I, and I understand things which were inconceivable not long ago. It is a fabulous age we live in.
Do not forget it.
Do not forget it
Do not forget it.
How lucky we are!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Morning People and Night People
Why is there a virtue associated with being a morning person and a suspicion of vice associated with being a night person?
In my first full time job as a technician in a science lab, people came in at all hours. More of the technicians were 8:30 to 4:30 varieties, except one who came in at 7:00 and left at three, and I who came in at 10:00 and left at 8:00 or 9:00, sometimes much later. The grad students started wandering in around 1:00, mostly didn’t get to work until after most of the techs were gone and often worked until midnight.
I have always liked working late. The place gets quite, one has peace to really work, one can play whatever music one likes, and if you have no commitments one can spend as much time as needed to do something right. I have also liked the company of night people. Night people seem to be more philosophical and contemplative, perhaps in keeping with dark and quiet. In my experience morning people seem to often be more impatient and unwilling to work out the picky details of trouble-shooting and pick their way through complicated processes.
If one IS a night person, forcing oneself to be in early is often very counterpropductive. Getting up early means being short of sleep, groggy and slow, thinking poorly, coordination off. An extra hour or two of sleep can make an enormous difference. Too often we humans short ourselves on sleep and function poorly as a result as it is.
In this first lab job of mine the early morning arriver got chosen to be the tech supervisor. I have always wondered if her early arrival was taken as dedication by the lab head. Soon after her promotion she expressed disapproval about my hours. She admitted that it was ok with the lab head, but she disliked having 3 hours when I wasn’t there, and she wanted to see me getting more work done. As she did not know the projects I was working on I tried to explain all the work I was doing. She shut me up, and told me to write out a log of everything I did, and when I did it, for the next two weeks.
That was a pain, having to stop all the time to write everything down. I did complain a bit. At the end of the two weeks, the supervisor read through my log, and checked up on my experiments. Then she said she was glad she’d made me write everything down, as it clearly forced me to work. I was furious. I had worked no differently than before, she simply had not ever checked to see what I was doing before.
I have seen this happen to many a night person. Morning people seem to suspect that the night people are playing around, not working. They rarely ask, instead the worst is assumed. A friend is currently getting this from her boss.
Interestingly, night people rarely assume that morning people fool around and don’t work when they come in early. We too buy into the idea that being early is a virtue in and of itself. We suspect that we have an almost moral defect in not being able to sleep early nor rise early. Yet it seems that there is no correlation between how hard people work and their prefered hours. The only exception being that if you force a person to work short of sleep they do not perform well.
Night people do their work, and also rarely mind finishing up things for morning people.
Why is the reverse not true?
Ideally there are all types working together early people to get things started then regular hours folks to carry through the middle of the day, then night people to pick up loose ends and work through problems. No one is better than the other.
I like to wander in late, sip at my coffee, come up to speed in the afternoon, and work into the quiet night. I play good music and serve as unofficial advisor for any late working students in the department. It is nice to have the equipment to myself. At the end I leave to a starry sky and empty roads - a lovely peaceful close to a long day.
In my first full time job as a technician in a science lab, people came in at all hours. More of the technicians were 8:30 to 4:30 varieties, except one who came in at 7:00 and left at three, and I who came in at 10:00 and left at 8:00 or 9:00, sometimes much later. The grad students started wandering in around 1:00, mostly didn’t get to work until after most of the techs were gone and often worked until midnight.
I have always liked working late. The place gets quite, one has peace to really work, one can play whatever music one likes, and if you have no commitments one can spend as much time as needed to do something right. I have also liked the company of night people. Night people seem to be more philosophical and contemplative, perhaps in keeping with dark and quiet. In my experience morning people seem to often be more impatient and unwilling to work out the picky details of trouble-shooting and pick their way through complicated processes.
If one IS a night person, forcing oneself to be in early is often very counterpropductive. Getting up early means being short of sleep, groggy and slow, thinking poorly, coordination off. An extra hour or two of sleep can make an enormous difference. Too often we humans short ourselves on sleep and function poorly as a result as it is.
In this first lab job of mine the early morning arriver got chosen to be the tech supervisor. I have always wondered if her early arrival was taken as dedication by the lab head. Soon after her promotion she expressed disapproval about my hours. She admitted that it was ok with the lab head, but she disliked having 3 hours when I wasn’t there, and she wanted to see me getting more work done. As she did not know the projects I was working on I tried to explain all the work I was doing. She shut me up, and told me to write out a log of everything I did, and when I did it, for the next two weeks.
That was a pain, having to stop all the time to write everything down. I did complain a bit. At the end of the two weeks, the supervisor read through my log, and checked up on my experiments. Then she said she was glad she’d made me write everything down, as it clearly forced me to work. I was furious. I had worked no differently than before, she simply had not ever checked to see what I was doing before.
I have seen this happen to many a night person. Morning people seem to suspect that the night people are playing around, not working. They rarely ask, instead the worst is assumed. A friend is currently getting this from her boss.
Interestingly, night people rarely assume that morning people fool around and don’t work when they come in early. We too buy into the idea that being early is a virtue in and of itself. We suspect that we have an almost moral defect in not being able to sleep early nor rise early. Yet it seems that there is no correlation between how hard people work and their prefered hours. The only exception being that if you force a person to work short of sleep they do not perform well.
Night people do their work, and also rarely mind finishing up things for morning people.
Why is the reverse not true?
Ideally there are all types working together early people to get things started then regular hours folks to carry through the middle of the day, then night people to pick up loose ends and work through problems. No one is better than the other.
I like to wander in late, sip at my coffee, come up to speed in the afternoon, and work into the quiet night. I play good music and serve as unofficial advisor for any late working students in the department. It is nice to have the equipment to myself. At the end I leave to a starry sky and empty roads - a lovely peaceful close to a long day.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Related to Fakes
This is a wonderful site. Read and learn.
http://www.skepticwiki.org/wiki/index.php/Main_Page
"Note that any advertisement claiming that a product is chemical-free is essentially claiming that the product consists of a perfect vacuum."
http://www.skepticwiki.org/wiki/index.php/Main_Page
"Note that any advertisement claiming that a product is chemical-free is essentially claiming that the product consists of a perfect vacuum."
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Fakes
It has been over a month since I've written here, many blogs started none finished. I’ve been busy.
I’m busy today too, but an article in the New York Times caught my eye. It is about something that has always eluded me, the value of a thing aside from the thing itself.
The article is about fake costume jewelry. http://nytimes.com/2006/01/29/technology/29ebay.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5094&en=2d9fd6c2b6f37545&hp&ex=1138597200&partner=homepage
OK. Costume jewelry is not made of precious stones or precious metals. The point is for it to look nice. There are bits of glass and brass etc. made to be shiny and pretty or flashy.
So. There are people who collect name costume jewelry, antiques. And now there are people making fake costume jewelry with the appropriate rhinestones and metal using modern glues, stamping the name of old, known, costume jewelry makers and selling them on e-bay. This drives down the price of the “real” costume jewelry.
OK. Now, I can see having a personal fondness for a shiny attractive piece because your great aunt owned it and wore it, and there is a picture of her as a glamorous young woman with the brooch pinning a lovely scarf. I can see valuing a piece for it’s appearance. I can even comprehend the idea of a piece being valued for the hands that made it. Perhaps a famous or interesting person held it in their hands and glued the rhinestones into their settings. But how can one so value apiece stamped out by a machine with glass glued in by low wage workers more than the counterfeit made now to be just as attractive? Why should the original hold any value simply because it is old?
Similarly why should a simple cotton knit T-shirt be more valuable if it has a name designer on it’s tag or printed across it’s front, or if it was bought from say, Saks Fifth, then the same design and cotton sold at JC Pennys? Again, I understand if one is cotton of a quality knit and the other a cheesy polyester blend. Or perhaps one made by workers earning a real living vs nearly enslaved sweatshop workers in a third world country. I certainly understand copywrite and patents. Without that how would an artist or inventor make a living?
But, what is the deal with valuing the company name and age on an item, paticularly when that maker is long gone or just a high profit corporation?
To me, that added price is… somewhat offensive, wasting resources that could be so much better spent elsewhere, I shudder a little when I see such names. I don’t like walking into such stores.
It might make a real impact if all who pay more for an item due to a name, instead just bought items for appearance and/or material quality, and paid attention to the source of an item, how eco-friendly? How well are the workers treated? Higher labor costs, and care to environmental impact would make items cost more, but wouldn’t that added cost be so much better than that added simply because of the name or age of the item?
Adding value based only on age and name “authenticity” in mass produced items is what seems fake to me.
I’m busy today too, but an article in the New York Times caught my eye. It is about something that has always eluded me, the value of a thing aside from the thing itself.
The article is about fake costume jewelry. http://nytimes.com/2006/01/29/technology/29ebay.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5094&en=2d9fd6c2b6f37545&hp&ex=1138597200&partner=homepage
OK. Costume jewelry is not made of precious stones or precious metals. The point is for it to look nice. There are bits of glass and brass etc. made to be shiny and pretty or flashy.
So. There are people who collect name costume jewelry, antiques. And now there are people making fake costume jewelry with the appropriate rhinestones and metal using modern glues, stamping the name of old, known, costume jewelry makers and selling them on e-bay. This drives down the price of the “real” costume jewelry.
OK. Now, I can see having a personal fondness for a shiny attractive piece because your great aunt owned it and wore it, and there is a picture of her as a glamorous young woman with the brooch pinning a lovely scarf. I can see valuing a piece for it’s appearance. I can even comprehend the idea of a piece being valued for the hands that made it. Perhaps a famous or interesting person held it in their hands and glued the rhinestones into their settings. But how can one so value apiece stamped out by a machine with glass glued in by low wage workers more than the counterfeit made now to be just as attractive? Why should the original hold any value simply because it is old?
Similarly why should a simple cotton knit T-shirt be more valuable if it has a name designer on it’s tag or printed across it’s front, or if it was bought from say, Saks Fifth, then the same design and cotton sold at JC Pennys? Again, I understand if one is cotton of a quality knit and the other a cheesy polyester blend. Or perhaps one made by workers earning a real living vs nearly enslaved sweatshop workers in a third world country. I certainly understand copywrite and patents. Without that how would an artist or inventor make a living?
But, what is the deal with valuing the company name and age on an item, paticularly when that maker is long gone or just a high profit corporation?
To me, that added price is… somewhat offensive, wasting resources that could be so much better spent elsewhere, I shudder a little when I see such names. I don’t like walking into such stores.
It might make a real impact if all who pay more for an item due to a name, instead just bought items for appearance and/or material quality, and paid attention to the source of an item, how eco-friendly? How well are the workers treated? Higher labor costs, and care to environmental impact would make items cost more, but wouldn’t that added cost be so much better than that added simply because of the name or age of the item?
Adding value based only on age and name “authenticity” in mass produced items is what seems fake to me.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
A Final Fiasco
I am tearing my hair out.
What is wrong with me, my students, and my textbook?
My final in my General Biology: Molecules and Cells (required first Biology for majors) is optional. It is cumulative and can be used to replace a lower earlier test score.
Some topics are harder for students than others. Photosynthesis, how plants make sugars using water, carbon dioxide, and energy from the sun, is one of the harder ones. Nonetheless, there a number of points of general interest in the topic. These are things I would think that a student would remember, because it explains what you see around you.
At the time I was lecturing on photosynthesis, the leaves were turning. Our falls colors are beautiful here in North Eastern Ohio.
So, first I talked about pigments. We see colors on objects because they have pigments that absorb part of the visible spectrum of light. Our eyes only get what is reflected. The light absorbed is trapped in the pigment molecules and never comes back to our eyes.
A black T-shirt is black because it absorbs all of the visible wavelengths of photons (energy particles of light), so our eyes see darkness, no light. A red T-shirt is red because it absorbs wavelengths other than red. The red light reflects off and comes to our eyes. And green leaves are green because chlorophyll absorbs blue and red and orange wavelengths. Green gets reflected so we see green.
Light is energy, so pigments gain energy in absorbing photons. That is why a black car seat gets so very hot on a sunny summer day, and why white clothes are cooler on such a day. Chlorophyll traps light energy. That energy collects and eventually pops an electron from chlorophyll entirely out of orbit and it goes to another molecule, setting off a cascade of energy transfering reactions of a type called electron transport. That is how the whole process begins.
Because chlorophyll does not get energy from green wavelengths, thrifty plants make additional pigments that absorb green light, instead reflecting yellow, orange, and red. These accessory pigments include carotenoids, of which beta-carotene is probably the most famous. These pigments are more stable than chlorophyll. When the weather gets cold, deciduous trees shut down the metabolism in their leaves. Chlorophyll is relatively unstable and rapidly degrades and vanishes. The carotenoids linger on for a while. So the green of chlorophyll vanishes, leaving instead yellow, orange and red carotenoids that you normally don’t see because of the more prevalent green chlorophyll overpowering them.
I spent most of an entire lecture on this, with lots of pictures, spectrums, pictures of trees before and after turning color. And, as I said above our trees were turning at that time. The text has two pages on pigments in general, with spectrums and wavelength diagrams.it then has a page each on chlorophyll and carotenoids. There are pictures of trees when green then turned orange and pictures of colored leaves on the carotenoid page. The book then spends six pages talking about the displacement of an electron by absorbed light energy, and it going into electron transport. That is a complicated process.
I also talked about where chlorophyll is in the plant cells, with pictures. It is located in the innermost parts of chloroplasts in structures called the thylakoid membranes. Again there are many digrams of plant leaf structure on my slides and in the book to show this.
The students missed a question about chlorophyll and fall colors on the test that included this subject. So, I put another one on the final. The students know to study from their previous quizzes for my final. So I put the following question on the final.
Which of the following is true of chlorophyll?
a) It absorbs green light.
b) It has electrons that can be shifted out of orbit by photons.
c) It changes from green to yellow or red in the fall
d) It is localized in the chloroplast outer membrane
e) none of the above
The students answered as follows on the group that had the Monday afternoon final:
18 picked c)
11 picked a)
9 picked d)
2 picked e)
And one, only ONE picked b) – the right answer
What is wrong? What am I doing? What are THEY doing?
What is wrong with me, my students, and my textbook?
My final in my General Biology: Molecules and Cells (required first Biology for majors) is optional. It is cumulative and can be used to replace a lower earlier test score.
Some topics are harder for students than others. Photosynthesis, how plants make sugars using water, carbon dioxide, and energy from the sun, is one of the harder ones. Nonetheless, there a number of points of general interest in the topic. These are things I would think that a student would remember, because it explains what you see around you.
At the time I was lecturing on photosynthesis, the leaves were turning. Our falls colors are beautiful here in North Eastern Ohio.
So, first I talked about pigments. We see colors on objects because they have pigments that absorb part of the visible spectrum of light. Our eyes only get what is reflected. The light absorbed is trapped in the pigment molecules and never comes back to our eyes.
A black T-shirt is black because it absorbs all of the visible wavelengths of photons (energy particles of light), so our eyes see darkness, no light. A red T-shirt is red because it absorbs wavelengths other than red. The red light reflects off and comes to our eyes. And green leaves are green because chlorophyll absorbs blue and red and orange wavelengths. Green gets reflected so we see green.
Light is energy, so pigments gain energy in absorbing photons. That is why a black car seat gets so very hot on a sunny summer day, and why white clothes are cooler on such a day. Chlorophyll traps light energy. That energy collects and eventually pops an electron from chlorophyll entirely out of orbit and it goes to another molecule, setting off a cascade of energy transfering reactions of a type called electron transport. That is how the whole process begins.
Because chlorophyll does not get energy from green wavelengths, thrifty plants make additional pigments that absorb green light, instead reflecting yellow, orange, and red. These accessory pigments include carotenoids, of which beta-carotene is probably the most famous. These pigments are more stable than chlorophyll. When the weather gets cold, deciduous trees shut down the metabolism in their leaves. Chlorophyll is relatively unstable and rapidly degrades and vanishes. The carotenoids linger on for a while. So the green of chlorophyll vanishes, leaving instead yellow, orange and red carotenoids that you normally don’t see because of the more prevalent green chlorophyll overpowering them.
I spent most of an entire lecture on this, with lots of pictures, spectrums, pictures of trees before and after turning color. And, as I said above our trees were turning at that time. The text has two pages on pigments in general, with spectrums and wavelength diagrams.it then has a page each on chlorophyll and carotenoids. There are pictures of trees when green then turned orange and pictures of colored leaves on the carotenoid page. The book then spends six pages talking about the displacement of an electron by absorbed light energy, and it going into electron transport. That is a complicated process.
I also talked about where chlorophyll is in the plant cells, with pictures. It is located in the innermost parts of chloroplasts in structures called the thylakoid membranes. Again there are many digrams of plant leaf structure on my slides and in the book to show this.
The students missed a question about chlorophyll and fall colors on the test that included this subject. So, I put another one on the final. The students know to study from their previous quizzes for my final. So I put the following question on the final.
Which of the following is true of chlorophyll?
a) It absorbs green light.
b) It has electrons that can be shifted out of orbit by photons.
c) It changes from green to yellow or red in the fall
d) It is localized in the chloroplast outer membrane
e) none of the above
The students answered as follows on the group that had the Monday afternoon final:
18 picked c)
11 picked a)
9 picked d)
2 picked e)
And one, only ONE picked b) – the right answer
What is wrong? What am I doing? What are THEY doing?
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Fill In the Blank
I am reviewing some chapters for non-majors biology textbooks.
It is making me grumpy.
One of the books appears to have been written directly in response to needs that I and other Professors perceive and complain about to book companies. Biology, medicine, health, and ecology are becoming increasingly important to understand as an informed citizen. College Biology classes for non-majors should provide scientific literacy, an understanding of what science is, and useful, practical information.
Here and there, through my extensive education in the biological sciences, I have unearthed some tidbit of immediate practical import. I have understood for years the problems with partially hydrogenated vegetable oils, over-use and incorrect use of antibiotics, the fact that cervical cancer is primarily a sexually transmitted disease, that eating a lot of meat is hard on the world’s resources, that goose-bumps are an evolutionary remnant of the reflex that allows other mammals to fluff their coats in response to cold or fear.
These and many other useful and/or interesting bits of knowledge do not really require a Ph.D. to comprehend. In turn they can be instructive on the basic processes of biology. Why not write a non-majors biology text packed with these useful tidbits used as examples of categories of biological processes?
So, this author has aimed to do just that.
Hurrah!
But, the text is often convoluted and impenetrable. To make matters worse, throughout the book are question for students to answer to monitor their progress. A great idea, yes? But the questions are fill in the blank, which can be ok, but are too often bad. If the question is a repetition of a sentence in the text, with a key word or two missing then the student simply needs to find the sentence and dutifully copy the word. This does not require any understanding of the concept or process discussed. It does not require understanding the definition of the word. It does not even require an understanding of the English language. It only requires pattern recognition. Furthermore it encourages plagiarism, copying being correct.
I have students in my classes at my university who have had many such “tests” and they are great at pattern recognition. The ones with high grades are often great memorizers in general. They often understand little. They resent me for using different wording on my test questions than I used on my slides in lecture, or that they read in the book. They think I ask too much in requiring them to understand something.
Who would write such questions? What do they think they are teaching? Grrrr.
It is making me grumpy.
One of the books appears to have been written directly in response to needs that I and other Professors perceive and complain about to book companies. Biology, medicine, health, and ecology are becoming increasingly important to understand as an informed citizen. College Biology classes for non-majors should provide scientific literacy, an understanding of what science is, and useful, practical information.
Here and there, through my extensive education in the biological sciences, I have unearthed some tidbit of immediate practical import. I have understood for years the problems with partially hydrogenated vegetable oils, over-use and incorrect use of antibiotics, the fact that cervical cancer is primarily a sexually transmitted disease, that eating a lot of meat is hard on the world’s resources, that goose-bumps are an evolutionary remnant of the reflex that allows other mammals to fluff their coats in response to cold or fear.
These and many other useful and/or interesting bits of knowledge do not really require a Ph.D. to comprehend. In turn they can be instructive on the basic processes of biology. Why not write a non-majors biology text packed with these useful tidbits used as examples of categories of biological processes?
So, this author has aimed to do just that.
Hurrah!
But, the text is often convoluted and impenetrable. To make matters worse, throughout the book are question for students to answer to monitor their progress. A great idea, yes? But the questions are fill in the blank, which can be ok, but are too often bad. If the question is a repetition of a sentence in the text, with a key word or two missing then the student simply needs to find the sentence and dutifully copy the word. This does not require any understanding of the concept or process discussed. It does not require understanding the definition of the word. It does not even require an understanding of the English language. It only requires pattern recognition. Furthermore it encourages plagiarism, copying being correct.
I have students in my classes at my university who have had many such “tests” and they are great at pattern recognition. The ones with high grades are often great memorizers in general. They often understand little. They resent me for using different wording on my test questions than I used on my slides in lecture, or that they read in the book. They think I ask too much in requiring them to understand something.
Who would write such questions? What do they think they are teaching? Grrrr.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Requiem
Champion Ti Shebi’s Orange Julius of Synergy
March 2000 – November 2005
I first saw Julius at a showhall. He was a bright-eyed bright orange little thing of about 5 months old, he had no stripes at all and a bright white undercoat. A true red smoke. The color so rare I had never seen it before. I wanted him. After some negotiating, his breeder, a friend, entrusted him with me.
He was a sweet and silly boy. He started out with a newly neutered older ex-stud, Robinhood, as a companion in Diana’s bedroom. The ten year old and the kitten were soon fast friends, and competed in goofyness, purring, wanting belly-rubs and playing with anything available. One of Julius’s favorite toys was a scrap of paper.
His personality never changed from kittenhood through being a stud to being a neuter and around the house pet.
He had the attention span of a gnat and loved toys. This made him endlessly amusing. He would trot across the room (he rarely walked) and spot a toy.
“A toy!” his expression indicated. “The coolest toy!” He’d grab it, toss it high in the air, bounce high himself, thunk down with it and kick it, leap up and toss again. Then at some point he’d toss it over his shoulder and lose track of it. He’d stop, looking both excited and confused.
“What? What what? What was happening? .... Oh well” and trot on. Then coming back around he’d spot it.
“A toy!” “The coolest toy!” and up in the air it would fly.
Julius also loved strangers. He would greet visitors at the door and often fly unexpected onto their shoulders. He purred hard,kneeded his long monkey toes on the human's shoulders and chest, bonked his head against them, enjoying contact, then wiggle-squirm to get down and run around, only to come back. The littlest thing would have him purring and quivering in excitement.
He fathered one litter of kittens and was then neutered. He helped raise his babies, sleeping with them, cleaning them, playing with them, and looking confused when they sucked on his belly.
He was never a wonderfully healthy cat. His whole litter had been ill when they were little. I think perhaps his health was compromised then, though there was no way for me or his breeder to know that. He was lithe and muscular, but prone to dropping weight. Julius had perpetual problems with his sinuses, then he had an attack of pancreatitis, then others. Finally he became deathly ill in July. It turned out it was potassium deficiency, brought on by kidney problems, that seemed at first to be not very severe. Potassium levels restored he recovered some, only to level off after a couple of months, then slide slowly down. At the end he was just skin and bones, perpetually dehydrated in spite of fluid therapy and medication. He mainly slept in a warm pile of his buddies, including his daughter and little grandchildren. He got up mainly to drink, or pee, but he still had to move at a trot, no strolling for Julius.
At his last visit to the vet, he cheered up considerably on seeing his doctor. He always liked him. He purred, he head bonked, he hopped into his lap as we talked of failed kidneys. He thought about hopping down and trotting around the exam room. His doctor held onto him though, stroking his bony back with gentle hands. Julius then got to see the technicians, he always loved to see new people. For him, it was a good way to go.
On Wednesday afternoon, as the seasons first snow fell softly, I buried him beside an old fashioned climbing rose, on the other side of the trellis from his buddy Robinhood. I planted scented daffodils on top of him. It seemed appropriate for the sweet, silly, sunny boy.
That night was very cold. It is cold still.
March 2000 – November 2005
I first saw Julius at a showhall. He was a bright-eyed bright orange little thing of about 5 months old, he had no stripes at all and a bright white undercoat. A true red smoke. The color so rare I had never seen it before. I wanted him. After some negotiating, his breeder, a friend, entrusted him with me.
He was a sweet and silly boy. He started out with a newly neutered older ex-stud, Robinhood, as a companion in Diana’s bedroom. The ten year old and the kitten were soon fast friends, and competed in goofyness, purring, wanting belly-rubs and playing with anything available. One of Julius’s favorite toys was a scrap of paper.
His personality never changed from kittenhood through being a stud to being a neuter and around the house pet.
He had the attention span of a gnat and loved toys. This made him endlessly amusing. He would trot across the room (he rarely walked) and spot a toy.
“A toy!” his expression indicated. “The coolest toy!” He’d grab it, toss it high in the air, bounce high himself, thunk down with it and kick it, leap up and toss again. Then at some point he’d toss it over his shoulder and lose track of it. He’d stop, looking both excited and confused.
“What? What what? What was happening? .... Oh well” and trot on. Then coming back around he’d spot it.
“A toy!” “The coolest toy!” and up in the air it would fly.
Julius also loved strangers. He would greet visitors at the door and often fly unexpected onto their shoulders. He purred hard,kneeded his long monkey toes on the human's shoulders and chest, bonked his head against them, enjoying contact, then wiggle-squirm to get down and run around, only to come back. The littlest thing would have him purring and quivering in excitement.
He fathered one litter of kittens and was then neutered. He helped raise his babies, sleeping with them, cleaning them, playing with them, and looking confused when they sucked on his belly.
He was never a wonderfully healthy cat. His whole litter had been ill when they were little. I think perhaps his health was compromised then, though there was no way for me or his breeder to know that. He was lithe and muscular, but prone to dropping weight. Julius had perpetual problems with his sinuses, then he had an attack of pancreatitis, then others. Finally he became deathly ill in July. It turned out it was potassium deficiency, brought on by kidney problems, that seemed at first to be not very severe. Potassium levels restored he recovered some, only to level off after a couple of months, then slide slowly down. At the end he was just skin and bones, perpetually dehydrated in spite of fluid therapy and medication. He mainly slept in a warm pile of his buddies, including his daughter and little grandchildren. He got up mainly to drink, or pee, but he still had to move at a trot, no strolling for Julius.
At his last visit to the vet, he cheered up considerably on seeing his doctor. He always liked him. He purred, he head bonked, he hopped into his lap as we talked of failed kidneys. He thought about hopping down and trotting around the exam room. His doctor held onto him though, stroking his bony back with gentle hands. Julius then got to see the technicians, he always loved to see new people. For him, it was a good way to go.
On Wednesday afternoon, as the seasons first snow fell softly, I buried him beside an old fashioned climbing rose, on the other side of the trellis from his buddy Robinhood. I planted scented daffodils on top of him. It seemed appropriate for the sweet, silly, sunny boy.
That night was very cold. It is cold still.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Beauty Under the Microscope
Somehow I had missed that the 2005 Nikon Small World awards were out. These images always astonish me. Alien architecture, intricate patterns, beautiful symmetries, abstract art, kaleidoscopes of color, all seen through the lens of a microscope. They should make screen savers for Macs though.
http://www.microscopyu.com/smallworld/gallery/index.html
http://www.microscopyu.com/smallworld/gallery/index.html
Colored Stars
It has been a clear day all day, and now into the night, clear, clear.
My eyes are succumbing to age. I went to a real eye doctor for the first time on Thursday morning. My right eye has been going from bad to worse. It is astigmatism as it turns out. As one ages astigmatism gets worse. My left eye is no longer perfect either so, I am getting glasses.
Tonight however, the stars seem clear and sharp. The edges of the moon are perfect with only a bit of double image angling up due to the astigmatism. What will they look like with glasses when they arrive?
It is an unusual night. Something in our lowland air has intensified the colors of the stars. Betelgeuse in the shoulder of Orion and Aldebaran half way from there to Mars are both red coals, while at Orion’s foot Rigel shines blue. Above them Capella is yellow-white. Mars itself is so bright and orange, and the Moon waxing, close to full sheds blue-white light, drenching the landscape in cool dreaminess.
I am always amazed that some don’t see the color in the stars I am also amazed that some don’t see color in their dreams. In fact many see no clear images at all in their dreams. My dreams are as vivid and full sensory as real life, perhaps even more so. Sometimes I confuse the two.
Tonight I have a fire in my fireplace, a half of a bottle of a nice red wine awaits. Jazz plays cool and warm on my stereo. A late, yet heavily scented rose blooms from a bottle that once held pear cognac brought from Paris.
It is now, here, officially my birthday.
My eyes are succumbing to age. I went to a real eye doctor for the first time on Thursday morning. My right eye has been going from bad to worse. It is astigmatism as it turns out. As one ages astigmatism gets worse. My left eye is no longer perfect either so, I am getting glasses.
Tonight however, the stars seem clear and sharp. The edges of the moon are perfect with only a bit of double image angling up due to the astigmatism. What will they look like with glasses when they arrive?
It is an unusual night. Something in our lowland air has intensified the colors of the stars. Betelgeuse in the shoulder of Orion and Aldebaran half way from there to Mars are both red coals, while at Orion’s foot Rigel shines blue. Above them Capella is yellow-white. Mars itself is so bright and orange, and the Moon waxing, close to full sheds blue-white light, drenching the landscape in cool dreaminess.
I am always amazed that some don’t see the color in the stars I am also amazed that some don’t see color in their dreams. In fact many see no clear images at all in their dreams. My dreams are as vivid and full sensory as real life, perhaps even more so. Sometimes I confuse the two.
Tonight I have a fire in my fireplace, a half of a bottle of a nice red wine awaits. Jazz plays cool and warm on my stereo. A late, yet heavily scented rose blooms from a bottle that once held pear cognac brought from Paris.
It is now, here, officially my birthday.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
By the Corporation, For the Corporation
The government of the U.S.A. is steadily becoming a government of the corporation, by the corporation, for the corporation. The goal is to increase profits, earning for CEOs and stock-holders. To that end we focus on immediate returns, research becomes that which is fast and produces immediate profit. Workers are an expense to be kept as productive and inexpensive as possible. Funding for programs that don’t have immediate payback on the bottom line are trimmed, those that increase profits are expanded.
This leads to all kinds of interesting fallout. Long term thinking is risky, as a corporation’s yearly profits determine it’s returns and ratings. Education is one of many things that requires long term goals. A child entering school now will not be a productive worker for ten to twenty years. That is just too far away if you are watching only this year’s bottom line, perhaps next year’s too if you are thinking ahead.
Much of our success as a country has come from our inventiveness and our education. Our pre-eminence in this area is fading rapidly and may already be lost. An article in today’s New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/13/business/yourmoney/13invent.html?hp&ex=1131858000&en=39c228d2051e5eb1&ei=5094&partner=homepage) on inventors and what they have to say about the current state of invention and research is disheartening, but not at all surprising to me. As a science professor at a pubic University I see a dramatic change in both the quality and expectations of students and in our support from our government. Less and less are students motivated to actually learn and gain skills, and less and less is our state government willing to support us.
Thomas Jefferson foresaw some of the problems we see now in corporate America. The gap between the rich and the poor grows and grows. Speculation and profits drive up housing costs in most parts of the country until the average family cannot afford to own. Though fortunately that is not true here, one of the cheapest real-estate markets in the country.
“If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their money, first by inflation and then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around them, will deprive the people of their property until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered”.
-Thomas Jefferson
What can I do? How do I instill a love of learning, an interest in innovation, a pleasure in personal skills gained through work? How can people be convinced that more money does not equal more happiness but personal achievement can?
Are there many of us who think, as I do, that our country and our public education institutions should not be run by MBA’s interested primarily in the bottom line and corporate profit, but by those who want to give something to the people?
This leads to all kinds of interesting fallout. Long term thinking is risky, as a corporation’s yearly profits determine it’s returns and ratings. Education is one of many things that requires long term goals. A child entering school now will not be a productive worker for ten to twenty years. That is just too far away if you are watching only this year’s bottom line, perhaps next year’s too if you are thinking ahead.
Much of our success as a country has come from our inventiveness and our education. Our pre-eminence in this area is fading rapidly and may already be lost. An article in today’s New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/13/business/yourmoney/13invent.html?hp&ex=1131858000&en=39c228d2051e5eb1&ei=5094&partner=homepage) on inventors and what they have to say about the current state of invention and research is disheartening, but not at all surprising to me. As a science professor at a pubic University I see a dramatic change in both the quality and expectations of students and in our support from our government. Less and less are students motivated to actually learn and gain skills, and less and less is our state government willing to support us.
Thomas Jefferson foresaw some of the problems we see now in corporate America. The gap between the rich and the poor grows and grows. Speculation and profits drive up housing costs in most parts of the country until the average family cannot afford to own. Though fortunately that is not true here, one of the cheapest real-estate markets in the country.
“If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their money, first by inflation and then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around them, will deprive the people of their property until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered”.
-Thomas Jefferson
What can I do? How do I instill a love of learning, an interest in innovation, a pleasure in personal skills gained through work? How can people be convinced that more money does not equal more happiness but personal achievement can?
Are there many of us who think, as I do, that our country and our public education institutions should not be run by MBA’s interested primarily in the bottom line and corporate profit, but by those who want to give something to the people?
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Intelligent Design
Science teachers at all levels should be able to distinguish science from belief. Science is the process of testing hypotheses to see whether they are supported or not with the aim to find natural explanations for the world and universe around us. A hypothesis is a scientific statement that must be testable and subject to being disproved.
Science is independent of faith. Whether one believes in God or not has no bearing on the scientific process. What is important in a science teacher is that they understand what the scientific process is, and can teach it to their students.
Intelligent Design is not testable and is therefore not scientific. It should not be taught as if it was scientific. To do so will further deteriorate our students’ understanding of what science is. Already we Americans are slipping in science, an area that we used to be the best in the world.
Intelligent Design is a perfectly acceptable, even lovely, belief. We can look at the world around us, see its beauty and complexity and consider that an affirmation of the hand and eye of a greater power if we are so inclined. We can neither prove nor disprove that belief.
There are many things we do not yet know or understand. A true scientist develops hypotheses about how or why these things happen and collects data to see if their ideas are supported or not. Many hypotheses are disproved by the facts. That is the nature of science. We learn from this process. On the other hand, a person who relies on faith instead of science to explain the natural world may choose to see a mystery as evidence of a higher power and refrain from trying to solve its puzzle. Such a person may condemn others who do look for solutions, interpreting it as an attack on their faith. This is not necessary. When scientists do piece together the hows and whys of one process, there will always be other unknowns for those who see God in knowledge gaps.
For most scientists, including Darwin who was a man of faith, testing hypotheses to work out the processes by which things happen is not incompatible with faith. After all, who are we to know the mind and methods of God?
Science is independent of faith. Whether one believes in God or not has no bearing on the scientific process. What is important in a science teacher is that they understand what the scientific process is, and can teach it to their students.
Intelligent Design is not testable and is therefore not scientific. It should not be taught as if it was scientific. To do so will further deteriorate our students’ understanding of what science is. Already we Americans are slipping in science, an area that we used to be the best in the world.
Intelligent Design is a perfectly acceptable, even lovely, belief. We can look at the world around us, see its beauty and complexity and consider that an affirmation of the hand and eye of a greater power if we are so inclined. We can neither prove nor disprove that belief.
There are many things we do not yet know or understand. A true scientist develops hypotheses about how or why these things happen and collects data to see if their ideas are supported or not. Many hypotheses are disproved by the facts. That is the nature of science. We learn from this process. On the other hand, a person who relies on faith instead of science to explain the natural world may choose to see a mystery as evidence of a higher power and refrain from trying to solve its puzzle. Such a person may condemn others who do look for solutions, interpreting it as an attack on their faith. This is not necessary. When scientists do piece together the hows and whys of one process, there will always be other unknowns for those who see God in knowledge gaps.
For most scientists, including Darwin who was a man of faith, testing hypotheses to work out the processes by which things happen is not incompatible with faith. After all, who are we to know the mind and methods of God?
Truth and Beauty
"The mathematician Hermann Weyl was quoted as having said not long before he died, "My work always tried to unite the true with the beautiful, but when I had to choose one or the other, I usually chose the beautiful."
Mathematicians, artists and writers may choose beauty over truth. Scientists can only hope that we do not have to make the choice."
-Lawrence M. Krauss, Professor of Physics and Astronomy, Case Western Reserve University
New York Times, Essay "Science and Religion Share Fascination in Things Unseen": November 8, 2005
Mathematicians, artists and writers may choose beauty over truth. Scientists can only hope that we do not have to make the choice."
-Lawrence M. Krauss, Professor of Physics and Astronomy, Case Western Reserve University
New York Times, Essay "Science and Religion Share Fascination in Things Unseen": November 8, 2005
Thursday, October 13, 2005
missing paper
I am missing a peice of paper I need for my 9:00 a.m. class tomorrow morning.
In truth I would have forgotten about it except that a student in my evening class, which finished at 6:50, said something that reminded me of it. This piece of paper was given to me just a few days ago. And it is now hidden amongst the thousands and thousands of pieces of paper in my office.
I am very glad that there is no particular place I need to be, other than here hunting for a piece of paper amongst many. I can lisen to the BBC, and maybe get rid of some paper, and file some more. The hundreds of quizzes from yesterday don't need to be graded tonight. I do need to write a new one one for my 10:00 to 11:50 class for tomorrow, but it will be short...
When the BBC hour stops at 8:00 p.m. I have some new CD's to listen to. (Thank you Emma)
At one time, Professors used to have secretaries.
I could really use one.
In truth I would have forgotten about it except that a student in my evening class, which finished at 6:50, said something that reminded me of it. This piece of paper was given to me just a few days ago. And it is now hidden amongst the thousands and thousands of pieces of paper in my office.
I am very glad that there is no particular place I need to be, other than here hunting for a piece of paper amongst many. I can lisen to the BBC, and maybe get rid of some paper, and file some more. The hundreds of quizzes from yesterday don't need to be graded tonight. I do need to write a new one one for my 10:00 to 11:50 class for tomorrow, but it will be short...
When the BBC hour stops at 8:00 p.m. I have some new CD's to listen to. (Thank you Emma)
At one time, Professors used to have secretaries.
I could really use one.
Late Night Questions
This is my tenth year teaching at my University. I have tenure, the cost of living is low, the mission of the university is important to me.
Next year, I will have lived longer here than I have lived in any one place in my life. I who was born and raised in the San Francisco bay area, who has lived in Oregon, Chicago, Seattle, New York City for ten years, will have live d in this depressed rust belt Ohio town longer.
The other day as I was walking through our quite lovely campus, filled with trees and little hills, some thing, some scent, produced an intense memory of the smell of the ocean. I walked on, but for a moment my mind placed me on the coast, surf crashing, wind blowing, skies gray and changeable. Gulls cried piercingly in a memory so strong I could see them cutting sideways through the wind.
I am hundreds of miles form any ocean, thousands from the mighty Pacific.
Because of my heavy teaching load I can’t do the level of research I used to. I feel like I under serve my research students and my classroom students as well, yet I can see that I work much harder at it than many of my peers. Yet, my efforts are met with fear and loathing by many students whose primary evaluation of a professor is on how easy they are, and how little work they have to do.
Ohio asks us to do more with less. We try, but of course, we do less well.
Am I in the right place? Is this the best I can do? How can I do better? Can I just relax and enjoy what I have? Can I be the Scientist I’d like to be? Can I be the scientist I used to be? What about my hobbies dropped for lack of time? Art, writing, music... is there no room for them in my life?
It is late. I have hundreds of quizzes to grade. No time for a midlife crisis. In truth, most of the time I DO manage to relax and enjoy what I have.
Perhaps I just need a fast car and some nights on the town.
Tonight, halfway through October in this northern clime, two moonflowers light up my trellis under a cool cloudy sky. That perhaps is enough for now.
Next year, I will have lived longer here than I have lived in any one place in my life. I who was born and raised in the San Francisco bay area, who has lived in Oregon, Chicago, Seattle, New York City for ten years, will have live d in this depressed rust belt Ohio town longer.
The other day as I was walking through our quite lovely campus, filled with trees and little hills, some thing, some scent, produced an intense memory of the smell of the ocean. I walked on, but for a moment my mind placed me on the coast, surf crashing, wind blowing, skies gray and changeable. Gulls cried piercingly in a memory so strong I could see them cutting sideways through the wind.
I am hundreds of miles form any ocean, thousands from the mighty Pacific.
Because of my heavy teaching load I can’t do the level of research I used to. I feel like I under serve my research students and my classroom students as well, yet I can see that I work much harder at it than many of my peers. Yet, my efforts are met with fear and loathing by many students whose primary evaluation of a professor is on how easy they are, and how little work they have to do.
Ohio asks us to do more with less. We try, but of course, we do less well.
Am I in the right place? Is this the best I can do? How can I do better? Can I just relax and enjoy what I have? Can I be the Scientist I’d like to be? Can I be the scientist I used to be? What about my hobbies dropped for lack of time? Art, writing, music... is there no room for them in my life?
It is late. I have hundreds of quizzes to grade. No time for a midlife crisis. In truth, most of the time I DO manage to relax and enjoy what I have.
Perhaps I just need a fast car and some nights on the town.
Tonight, halfway through October in this northern clime, two moonflowers light up my trellis under a cool cloudy sky. That perhaps is enough for now.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Hot Peppers
Hungarian hot wax peppers are peculiar things. They grow yellow and waxy looking. Like many peppers they turn red if you leave them on the plant long enough.
I like them best red. Then they are sweet and bursting with ripe pepper flavor.
They are listed as a mildly hot pepper. I think they would be better categorized as variable.
I have several picked recently. They are a lovely saturated red.
Early this afternoon I sauteed an onion and some Poblano peppers, dark and blackish green. I chopped the tip off a red wax, tasted it. Sweet, rich, a hint of fire. I deseeded and chopped the rest of it and added to the sautee, threw in eggs and milk, scrambled, then added a bit of sharp cheddar and cilantro. It was heavenly.
It was so good in fact that I chopped another small onion, another Poblano, and another red wax deseeded and sauteed as before and added an egg etc.
Except that the second time the rising aroma made me cough. My nose started to run, I grabbed a tissue, wiped, and then my nose was burning. I touched a fingertip to my tongue.
Fire.
It was still heavenly to eat if a bit sizzling on the lips and tongue. I kept a glass of milk handy and enjoyed it, but 9 hours later the heat has worked through my skin and my fingers burn.
Always surprising the Hungarian wax. Hot, mild, medium, and no way to tell which, except to taste.
Not checking thoroughly in advance can lead to long slow burns later.
If you are expecting the burn you can cut on a plastic cutting board and wear latex gloves, protect yourself. That trick was taught to me by a Hispanic roomate from El Paso many years ago.
The burn itself is caused by a substance called capsacin made by the peppers as a kind of defense. Capsacin binds to mammalian nerve cells, opening tiny channels in the membrane that normally open in response to heat and pain. It is harmless. It just FEELS like it burns. Birds have slightly different channels, so are immune, and happily spread the seeds about.
I like hot and spicy food. The burn adds to the pleasure somehow. I like roller coasters too. The animal self fooled into thinking there is danger. The mind knows better.
Knowledge can changes fear into fun. In other cases it turns fun into fear. Having good information is important. Often it is very important indeed. With knowledge, one can be prepared.
I like them best red. Then they are sweet and bursting with ripe pepper flavor.
They are listed as a mildly hot pepper. I think they would be better categorized as variable.
I have several picked recently. They are a lovely saturated red.
Early this afternoon I sauteed an onion and some Poblano peppers, dark and blackish green. I chopped the tip off a red wax, tasted it. Sweet, rich, a hint of fire. I deseeded and chopped the rest of it and added to the sautee, threw in eggs and milk, scrambled, then added a bit of sharp cheddar and cilantro. It was heavenly.
It was so good in fact that I chopped another small onion, another Poblano, and another red wax deseeded and sauteed as before and added an egg etc.
Except that the second time the rising aroma made me cough. My nose started to run, I grabbed a tissue, wiped, and then my nose was burning. I touched a fingertip to my tongue.
Fire.
It was still heavenly to eat if a bit sizzling on the lips and tongue. I kept a glass of milk handy and enjoyed it, but 9 hours later the heat has worked through my skin and my fingers burn.
Always surprising the Hungarian wax. Hot, mild, medium, and no way to tell which, except to taste.
Not checking thoroughly in advance can lead to long slow burns later.
If you are expecting the burn you can cut on a plastic cutting board and wear latex gloves, protect yourself. That trick was taught to me by a Hispanic roomate from El Paso many years ago.
The burn itself is caused by a substance called capsacin made by the peppers as a kind of defense. Capsacin binds to mammalian nerve cells, opening tiny channels in the membrane that normally open in response to heat and pain. It is harmless. It just FEELS like it burns. Birds have slightly different channels, so are immune, and happily spread the seeds about.
I like hot and spicy food. The burn adds to the pleasure somehow. I like roller coasters too. The animal self fooled into thinking there is danger. The mind knows better.
Knowledge can changes fear into fun. In other cases it turns fun into fear. Having good information is important. Often it is very important indeed. With knowledge, one can be prepared.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Basil on the Last Day of Summer
Today is the last day of summer.
I left work early today because this morning it looked like my cat Angel was going to have her kittens immanently. When I arrived home, it was apparent that she was very pleased with herself but not in any hurry, so I did some yard work.
It was warm and sunny, in the low 80’s. I pulled thistles in my vegetable garden, trimmed the grass between the raised beds there, and picked some peppers and tomatoes. I had let some of my early crop of romaine go to seed, and now have a small forest of young lettuce as a result. I must remember to do that on purpose next year. I tied up long wandering tomato vines, including some cherry tomatoes that volunteered and are making surpassingly sweet little tomatoes.
I also grew three types of basil this year: regular Italian sweet basil, cinnamon basil, and anise basil. The cinnamon basil and anise basil are superb in Asian food. All the basil plants are all huge, bushy and flowering and thinking of going to seed. I have dried basil this year, but not made pesto, so I cut the sweet basil substantially, and hauled armfuls of fragrant basil up the hill and into my kitchen.
I washed the basil in between checking on Angel and fielding phone calls. I removed spiders and earwigs and damaged leaves. I found a weed with green basil sized leaves amongst the basil. I tossed it unceremoniously onto the kitchen floor so that is would not end up in the pesto. I filled my blender with huge green leaves, added extra virgin olive oil and a little water and blended the mix into a porridge like consistency. I pulled an ice cube tray out of the freezer and emptied the ice into a plastic bag. Squeezing the bag of ice into the freezer was a challenge.... if I stopped and ate the rest of the ice cream there would be room.... No, I don’t need to eat the ice cream! Ice away, I filled the tray with pesto and popped it back into the freezer. I had only used part of the pesto.
I took out another tray of ice, emptied the ice into a second bag, squeezed the bag of ice into the freezer, filled the second tray with pesto. I packed as much pesto into the tray as I could, but there was still a good deal left. So, out comes the third and last tray of ice. Once again, ice into the bag, pesto into tray. This time the tray was not full to the top with pesto, and all the pesto was used.
I went to the freezer, opened the door. A bag of ice flew out, landed on one end of the tray of pesto and flipped it out of my hand onto the floor, splattering me, the refrigerator and the floor with bright green fragrant pesto.
“Oh dear” I said.
I stopped and thought about that. Was it not worth a four letter word? I do use them. Apparently not, the floor needed to be washed anyhow.
The tray had landed right side up and less than half the pesto was gone. I wiped off the tray set it on the counter and spent some time removing ground basil and olive oil from various places. Much soap and water did the trick. I then went to the over filled tray in the freezer and scooped out pesto into the last tray to make two moderately filled trays.
So now my kitchen floor has a very clean spot and a weed.
And I have enough pesto freezing to last a year.. I will empty the trays into a big zip lock freezer bag and store in a downstairs freezer to be used one cube at a time, with fresh crushed garlic and butter, perhaps with tomato paste and/or pine nuts, on pasta or fish. Yum!
I left work early today because this morning it looked like my cat Angel was going to have her kittens immanently. When I arrived home, it was apparent that she was very pleased with herself but not in any hurry, so I did some yard work.
It was warm and sunny, in the low 80’s. I pulled thistles in my vegetable garden, trimmed the grass between the raised beds there, and picked some peppers and tomatoes. I had let some of my early crop of romaine go to seed, and now have a small forest of young lettuce as a result. I must remember to do that on purpose next year. I tied up long wandering tomato vines, including some cherry tomatoes that volunteered and are making surpassingly sweet little tomatoes.
I also grew three types of basil this year: regular Italian sweet basil, cinnamon basil, and anise basil. The cinnamon basil and anise basil are superb in Asian food. All the basil plants are all huge, bushy and flowering and thinking of going to seed. I have dried basil this year, but not made pesto, so I cut the sweet basil substantially, and hauled armfuls of fragrant basil up the hill and into my kitchen.
I washed the basil in between checking on Angel and fielding phone calls. I removed spiders and earwigs and damaged leaves. I found a weed with green basil sized leaves amongst the basil. I tossed it unceremoniously onto the kitchen floor so that is would not end up in the pesto. I filled my blender with huge green leaves, added extra virgin olive oil and a little water and blended the mix into a porridge like consistency. I pulled an ice cube tray out of the freezer and emptied the ice into a plastic bag. Squeezing the bag of ice into the freezer was a challenge.... if I stopped and ate the rest of the ice cream there would be room.... No, I don’t need to eat the ice cream! Ice away, I filled the tray with pesto and popped it back into the freezer. I had only used part of the pesto.
I took out another tray of ice, emptied the ice into a second bag, squeezed the bag of ice into the freezer, filled the second tray with pesto. I packed as much pesto into the tray as I could, but there was still a good deal left. So, out comes the third and last tray of ice. Once again, ice into the bag, pesto into tray. This time the tray was not full to the top with pesto, and all the pesto was used.
I went to the freezer, opened the door. A bag of ice flew out, landed on one end of the tray of pesto and flipped it out of my hand onto the floor, splattering me, the refrigerator and the floor with bright green fragrant pesto.
“Oh dear” I said.
I stopped and thought about that. Was it not worth a four letter word? I do use them. Apparently not, the floor needed to be washed anyhow.
The tray had landed right side up and less than half the pesto was gone. I wiped off the tray set it on the counter and spent some time removing ground basil and olive oil from various places. Much soap and water did the trick. I then went to the over filled tray in the freezer and scooped out pesto into the last tray to make two moderately filled trays.
So now my kitchen floor has a very clean spot and a weed.
And I have enough pesto freezing to last a year.. I will empty the trays into a big zip lock freezer bag and store in a downstairs freezer to be used one cube at a time, with fresh crushed garlic and butter, perhaps with tomato paste and/or pine nuts, on pasta or fish. Yum!
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