Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Stitching update


I thought it was time I showed some of my recent handiwork. Here is the block I embellished for Sue in the Round Robin I recently participated in. It will be on its way home today or tomorrow, I hope. Sue's blocks are all crazy-patch christmas trees, so on this one I added some gold star charms and coloured "tinsel". The star at the top of the tree (it wouldn't quite all fit in the scanner) was made of gold threads using soluble fabric stabiliser (which was the theme of the Round Robin). I hope Sue likes it!

Monday, August 21, 2006

Weirdos

We've just had Science Week here in Sydney and the weekend was packed with fun and exciting stuff to do at the Ultimo Science Festival. The Dude and I, along with his friend Titania and her brother Boris and parents, headed down to some of the displays, events and talks. Who knew that you could turn an ordinary drinking straw into a maddeningly annoying noisemaker with just a pair of scissors? Thanks to the Young Scientists Australia, NOW we know....
Yesterday the Dude and I went to listen to a lecture by Brian Cox -- former new wave pretty boy musician and current plotter of the paths of electrons -- about what the universe is made of. Maybe it was partly the adorable Mancunian accent and the floppy Beatles-style fringe, but this guy really lived up to his claim of being a science communicator. The Dude, who had threatened to fall asleep as he did in the front row of the Darwin Day lecture, stayed awake for the whole thing. I copied down a really cool little table that explains all about quarks and leptons and bosons (such as the relationship between up quarks and charm quarks, for example, which I have never been able to understand before).
But I am not going to give you a precis of the whole lecture here. What I wanted to blog about was the weirdos. We sat through an hour-long talk, with lots of pictures and graphics and even quotes about poetry, and heaps of stuff about the subatomic structure universe made sense even to a layperson like me (and the Dude). But when question time came around, the first person to stand up said, "Everything you have just said is wrong because..." [produces a small bottle] "... I have gravity right here in a jar." Or something like that. (I swear the bottle bit is true, I just don't remember his exact words.) Much rolling of eyes around the audience ensued, but super-smooth Dr Cox just smiled and said, "I promise to talk to you later, but now we'll move on to a question that will interest everyone in the room." How I could have hugged him! (Mmmmmm....)
Second question comes from the other side of the lecture theatre, from a bespectacled middle-aged man in suit who claims to be a physicist: "How can you do experiments on quarks and stuff if you can't see them?" I would have said, "Well, der, weren't you listening for the last half hour?" but super-patient Dr Cox took the trouble to explain AGAIN how his experiments work. Then he cracked a joke at the suit guy's expense, in the nicest possible way, so that even the suit guy had to laugh when Dr Cox asked what branch of physics he was in, "because those kind of questions usually come from people who are after my grant money."
After that, a few sensible questions were asked and answered. But it made me realise that science communicators must get to see more than their fair share of weirdos. My admiration for those who do it (Bad Astronomer, Pharyngula, etc, please take a bow) has just doubled.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Hysteria Alert!

I received an email the other day with pictures of a plant that had apparently been killed by being watered with microwaved water. Normally I delete these emails after a cursory glance but the hysterical language of this one caught my attention. I Googled it and found this website. The website admits what the email does not: that the experiment may have been flawed, that the results were not statistically significant, and that the photographs had been doctored.

But what I enjoyed most about the email was the additional conclusions added by one of the forwarders somewhere in the chain. I reproduce it below, with my own thoughts in square brackets.

The problem with microwaved anything is not the radiation people used to worry about; it is how it corrupts the DNA in the food [but water doesn't have DNA, so how does this experiment prove anything about radiation and DNA?] so the body can not recognize it. So, the body wraps it in fat cells [oooh, a present. For me?] to protect itself from the dead food or it eliminates it fast. [Dead food? Isn't all food dead when you eat it? I mean, maybe my parsley is still photosynthesising when I pick it out of the pot... and I think I ate a live pippi at the beach once.... It will definitely be dead once you microwave it, in any case.]

Think of all the Mothers heating up milk in these "Safe" appliances. [Uh-oh. Hysteria Alert! Using Capital Letters in the Middle of Sentences is always a bad sign.] What about the Canadian nurse that warmed up blood for a transfusion patient and accidentally killed them when the blood went in dead. [Those damned Canadians, eh? They're always doing stupid stuff that no-one in the good ole USA would do, eh?] But the manufacturers say microwaves are safe and to keep using them. Ask your Doctor. I am sure they will say it's safe too. [And you would rather me believe a 6th grader than my GP?] Proof is in the pictures of living plants dying. [That have been doctored, by the admission of the website owner.] Try it yourself. [This is about the only sensible sentence in the whole article.] Remember You are also Living. [So don't microwave your own head.] Take Care.


My reponse to this drivel is this:
The problem with alarmist anything is not that the original experiment was necessarily faulty, it's how it corrupts normally sensible people's brains so they cannot recognise rubbish when they read it. So the brain wraps it in hysteria to protect itself from actually having to process dead wrong information.

Think of all the Scientists trying to teach Sense to your children. And don't blame Canadians (or, in Australia, New Zealanders) when you are trying to make a far-fetched fictional anecdote sound scientific. Doctors say your brain is safe and you should keep using it. Ask your teacher. I am sure they will say it's safe too. Proof is obtainable with only a little effort, so try it yourself. Remember, you also have a brain. Use It.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

The Big Four-Oh

Okay, now I am 40 years old in both Australia and the US. To celebrate my birthday, we drove (well, some of us drove and some rode their Harleys) down through Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Virginia to North Carolina for the 2006 Smokeout and, coincidentally, to visit Farmer Pete's sister and her family. Just to whet your appetite for more, here I am celebrating my age by defying death on the back of a Fat Boy (that's the bike, not Farmer Pete). You can see more photos over at my Flickr album (click on the link in the sidebar to get there), including two of the cutest boys in North Carolina.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Niagara Falls

Note: I'm having intermittent difficulties uploading pics to Blogger from my sister's computer, and today is one of those days. So I apologise for having to give you links to Flickr instead of photos right here in the blog.

Although the day started out wet and windy, by the time my sister and I got to Niagara Falls it was clearing (although still windy -- but the falls are always windy due to the huge updraft created by the massive amounts of water dropping over the edge). Those who have seen my photos of my last visit to Niagara will recall that we crossed over into Canada to see the falls from that side two years ago, so this year we decided to visit the American Falls. Goat Island is the tract of land that separates the Canadian Falls (Horseshoe Falls) from the Bridal Veil and American Falls. We parked on the Island, then walked out to the Three Sister Islands, a rather appropriate destination although only two of the three sisters were actually present. Wonder if we'll ever manage to get all three of us there at the same time?
After checking out the Horseshoe Falls from the south side and eating lunch in the Top of the Falls restaurant -- I had a local beer called the Dawn Patrol that was quite tasty -- we ventured over to the American Falls. The Cave of the Winds tour involved a 175-foot descent in a lift (or an elevator, as Farmer Pete insists) to a boardwalk that takes you right under the foot of the falls -- hence the yellow condom and strange sandals. Naturally, this didn't stop me from getting my jeans soaking wet when we went up onto the Hurricane Deck.
I am always amazed by the sheer quantity of water that goes over Niagara every second. Especially in the light of our drought-stricken continent downunder, it just seems impossible that there is enough water in the entire world to keep the Falls pumping millions of litres a second, 24/7, 365 days a year. Mind-blowing!

Monday, June 19, 2006

Animals upstate

Here's Farmer Pete mowing the lawn. It only takes him about five hours, and that's just the bit around the house. The field at the back is waist-deep in grass ready for hay-making.
Here's the supreme terror of the house in pensive mode: Sprocket the Not-So-Brave Beagle (he's quite scared of Puss when Puss is in a mood).
Puss is much more my style: he just lazes around in the sun all day and stalks the halls at night, occasionally taking a swipe at Sprocket if he gets too annoying.

Here's some upstate wildlife. The deer come down most days at dusk: on this day there were five or six in the hayfield. One spotted me with the camera and went bounding off into the trees, leaping high over the grass and showing the white underside of his tail with each bounce.


I've been trying to get close enough to a bumble bee to get a photograph for years, but they just won't hold still. These lumbering guys are about five times the size of Australian bees and make a much lower droning sound. I grasped the chance to finally get a photograph when we arrived in Colden to find a veritable graveyard of bumble bees in the side porch. Don't know why they all come to Colden to die!

Friday, June 16, 2006

Back to the blogosphere -- in New York

After several months of hiatus, I'm back! And I'm in New York!
I arrived in New York city on Friday evening, in pretty good shape thanks to a surprise upgrade to business class on my flight. The Upstaters (my sister and her husband) flew down to meet me at the airport and we dragged our luggage out to Uncle's place in New Jersey, which would be our base camp for daily forays into the Big Apple: just an hour on the bus each way.
I had a short list of four things I wanted to see or do in NY city: one of the big art galleries, Central Park, Greenwich Village and a Broadway show. We easily did all that and more, but there's still plenty to see next visit! All the photos are here, in my Flickr account.

Day 1
We headed straight for Times Square where we sipped coffee and watched the world go by. From Times Square we took a stroll uptown to the Rockefeller Centre. The Museum of Modern Art turned out to be the gallery of choice, rather than the Met, and it was all I thought it would be. Seeing first-hand original artworks that I've studied and written essays about was awe-inspiring. It's such a great collection of iconic works. When the security guards threw us out at closing time, we headed downtown to Chinatown for dinner. Much to my delight, I found several stores and street vendors who were selling the delicious hot coconut milk tea that the Dude and I fell in love with in Shanghai. I bought a cup for the Upstaters, who declared it delicious (although Pierre said it would be better without the "gloppy shit" in the bottom).

Day 2
On this fine sunny Sunday we elected to visit Central Park, only to find that half the park was closed to the public because of a Puerto Rican parade. Still, we walked through Strawberry Fields (and saw the Dakota apartment block where John Lennon was shot), strolled around the Lake to the Bethesda fountain and visited the Belvedere Castle for a great view of the Turtle Pond and the city skyline over the park. Shakespeare's garden was lovely, with lots of flowers in bloom. From Central Park we dropped in at the Waldorf ("where folks sit around all day") for high tea. Heading back downtown we went to Battery Park and visited the World Trade Centre site before going to Little Italy for dinner al fresco.

Day 3
Greenwich Village was ticked off the list today: Washington Square, NYU, the Stonewall Bar and various other sites. We ate lunch in a bar that was showing the World Cup, but just missed the Australia vs Japan game (that Australia won 3-1, and apparently John Aloisi made a hero of himself again). In the afternoon, we took the ferry to Liberty Island and Ellis Island to get an education in local history and some photographs of an iconic landmark. For dinner we found a little cajun cafe called Great Jones, so I got my first taste of gumbo and cornbread.

Day 4
Now with thoroughly sore feet, we had tickets for a show on Broadway this evening and everything else on my list done, so our first stop was NY Choppers, a custom bike shop famous among bikers like the Upstaters. Just down the road we ate lunch at the Hello Deli, which is apparently famous because it is a regular segment on Letterman. The owner was happy to pose for photographs with the customers, all day. And the sandwiches were good. Next stop was the South Street Sea Port, where there was an exhibition of plastinated human bodies similar to the one I saw in Sydney with the Aforementioned Engineer. The Upstaters were keen, so we checked it out. Afterwards we went to Union Square to meet my fellow blogger, Kevin, and get the lowdown on what we had missed from a true New Yorker! Last stop was Times Square (again) for a piece of New York pizza and some cheesecake to complete our sampling of NY cuisine. Spamalot was our Broadway show of choice (due to a long-term Monty Python indoctrination) and we were not disappointed, apart from the fact that the big-name stars (Tim Curry, David Hyde Pierce and Hank Azaria) had been replaced by lesser-known performers. We finally made it back to New Jersey and fell into bed, knowing that the next day was just for travelling.

Now we're upstate, in sunny Colden where the temperature is (uncharacteristically) supposed to hit 90 degrees in the next day or so. (That's about 35 degrees for those who think in Celsius.) The Upstaters have family visiting for the Father's Day weekend so tomorrow looks like a grocery shopping day.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Philosophy 101: on happiness

Last night I attended my first philosophy class, which was a rapid-paced overview of the history of philosophy, touching briefly on each of the types of philosophy and the examples of philosophers that we will cover in future weeks. The class has about 30 people in it, ranging in age from about mid 20s to 70-odd, and ranging in style from hippy chic to business suits. There are only about six or seven men in the class. I am not sure what this says about philosophers!
The good news is, the lecturer stayed on topic. There were questions from the students, and almost all of them were related directly to the topic (one was about whether we could have the air-conditioner turned off, so we'll excuse that). This is such a nice change after my last course on string theory (which I have complained about at length in other blog entries).
During this class the teacher explained Aristotle's belief that happiness is the basic human need: everything we do can be boiled down to the pursuit of happiness.
This got me thinking about a conversation I had with my mother in January. Mrs B told me that she had made a new year's resolution to have no stress in her life (hence her unwillingness to visit me, as she and her partner find driving in the city stressful). I said, "Life is stress: you can't resolve not to have stress, you can only resolve to deal with stress better".
We talked about the fact that she doesn't feel happy when there is stress in her life. Happiness for Mrs B is a future prospect: she looks forward to a time of perfect felicity but doesn't experience it now. Any happiness she feels is tempered by the expectation that there is a better happiness just aeound the corner. I told her that I feel perfectly happy (when I am happy, which is by no means every moment of the day) now, and that I don't expect to feel any happier when I have paid off the mortgage/taken a holiday/eliminated stress.
Mrs B's response to my claim was to say, "Oh, but the worst thing that has ever happened to you is your father dying" (as if that's not bad enough).
I was a bit annoyed about this comment: it was as if she was trying to say that I could only think myself happy because nothing bad has ever happened to me. I admit I'm pretty lucky compared to some; but bad things have happened to me (I could have reminded her of an acrimonious divorce; my son's major surgery as a three-month-old baby and six months in a wheelchair as a three-year-old; losing two jobs because the companies went into liquidation, and so on) and bad things do happen to me and will continue happen to me. But good things also happen to me, and although I have never won the lottery or looked like a supermodel or been world-famous, I have (in the last few days):
  • received a spontaneous kiss and cuddle from the Dude
  • had a steamy kiss and cuddle with the Fun Policeman
  • made at least two new acquaintances whose company I enjoyed
  • giggled with the Dude's friend, the Princess, while looking at sperm under a microscope
  • talked to a man who was wearing chain mail and a sword
  • heard a Japanese choir singing in perfect harmony
  • read part of a good book
  • got butterflies in my stomach when Mr Darcy almost kissed Lizzie in the new Pride & Prejudice DVD
  • eaten fresh sushi and drunk good coffee
  • played my current favourite song on the car stereo (and sung along, loudly)
  • walked in a park on a sunny day
... I could go on. The point I am trying to make is that all those things are moments of pure happiness, mixed in with the rest of life -- work, housekeeping, bill paying, etc. But those moments of happiness are what makes life worth living.
Aristotle was right.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Merry Christmas


Sorry for not blogging for a while -- I have been pretty busy and distracted. Here is the christmas tree I made using soluble fabric stabiliser for Joy's block in the Round Robin I'm participating in.

More Dude Sculpture came home this week -- I'll post a pic in a day or two.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Top 10, er... 1000

Gosh. If I didn't have to limit myself to a top 10 of must-read books, I could go on forever... oh, it looks like someone has. I want one!

FP at Mardi Gras: no comment

Sunday, March 05, 2006

All love is equal


That was the theme of last night's Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras, which was the best parade in years. Better than last year, definitely better than the year before when my friend MJ and I cowered under a tree with rivers of raindrops running down inside our plastic ponchos.
This year the Fun Policeman finally managed to persude the Fire Brigade to join the police, ambulance and other emergency services by entering a float to show support of the GLBTQ community and the members of the service. He was absolutely hyped at the end -- they had a great time walking along and waving to the crowd, getting their pictures taken with various elaborately costumed parade participants (everyone wants a photo with a fireman!) Articles in the mardi gras press drew attention to the fireys' participation with the headline: What starts with F and ends with U C K in the Mardi Gras parade? Answer: A firetruck!
The FP said he saw Molly Meldrum and even got close to Toby Allen but he didn't get his picture taken with him -- dammit!
The following photo is especially to make MJ jealous: he couldn't make it this year due to a family wedding but sent me plaintive SMS messages all night asking how the parade was going. And the Sydney Convicts Rugby team in their jock straps was another sight to be seen!

Here's something close to home: the theme of the Lord [Lady] Mayor's entry was "you're not the only gay in the village", with signs representing each of the "villages" in the City of Sydney -- including my own little patch of turf.

More (and larger) photos in my Flickr set. Wait until you see the float sponsored by Lincraft!

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Dude sculpture III


Looks like we have another Jackson Pollock on our hands. Anyone want to pay $5 million for these beauties?

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Top 10 continued

Top 10 fiction
I have listed authors rather than particular novels, because most of the people on this list have written more than one brilliant novel. I do have my favourites, though.
1. Charles Dickens. Bleak House is fantastic, but they're all good. The first page of Hard Times is a masterpiece.
2. Jane Austen. Emma is the best, in my opinion.
3. Shirley Hazzard. Because I've just finished The Great Fire and her wonderful writing style is fresh in my mind. The Transit of Venus is a good place to start.
4. Patrick White. Voss
5. Mark Twain. Huckleberry Finn, of course.
6. George Eliot. Silas Marner
7. The Brontes. Charlotte's Jane Eyre and Emily's Wuthering Heights. Poor Anne's Agnes Grey is wimpy by comparison, although it's just as good as other books by her sister, such as The Professor and Villette.
8. DBC Pierre. Vernon God Little. Apparently his new one -- Ludmilla's Broken English -- is also excellent.
9. D.H. Lawrence. Definitely The Rainbow, followed by its sequel Women in Love. But Kangaroo is good, too.
10. Tim Winton. Dirt Music, but all his novels are magnificent.

Top 10 poets
Once again, listed by author rather than particular poems.
1. Geoffrey Chaucer. "Whan that Aprille with its shoures swoot..."
2. John Donne. "I wonder by my troth, what thou and I / Did, till we loved?"
3. William Shakespeare. "Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising / Haply I think on thee and then my state / (Like to the lark at break of day arising / from sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate."
4. T.S. Eliot. "We shall not cease from exploration / And the end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time."
5. e e cummings. "you shall above all things be glad and young / For if you're young, whatever life you wear / it will become you; and if you are glad / whatever's living will yourself become."
6. Walt Whitman. "I celebrate myself."
7. Judith Wright. "This is the blood's wild tree that grows / the intricate and folded rose."
8. Les Murray. "There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him."
9. Kenneth Slessor. "Time that is moved by little fidget wheels / Is not my Time, the flood that does not flow."
10. John Shaw Nielson. "Let your song be delicate."

Top 10 children's books
These are all books I still love to read, as an adult.
1. C.S. Lewis. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is the best after The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe.
2. Alan Garner. The Owl Service, Elidor, The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, The Moon of Gomrath.
3. Tove Janssen. The Moomintroll books
4. Joyce Lankester-Brisley. Milly-Molly-Mandy
5. Roald Dahl. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, of course.
6. J.K. Rowling. The Harry Potter series (since she hasn't written anything else. Will she ever, do you think?)
7. Patricia Wrightson. An Older Kind of Magic or I Own the Racecourse.
8. J.R.R. Tolkein. The Hobbit
9. Kenneth Grahame. The Wind in the Willows
10. Ethel Turner. Seven Little Australians

Monday, February 27, 2006

Sub's day off

Yesterday's Sun-Herald contained a page-three article about a "slither" of land with views over Bondi Beach that had been sold for squillions of dollars. The Aforementioned Engineer and I had a giggle. One could almost slide straight into the Bondi Icebergs' pool, we decided, if one had a spare $3.5 million.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Top 10

Yesterday's blogging about The Origin of Species got me thinking about important books and texts. I started trying to compile my own "top 10" and found it extremely difficult. If the top 10 must encompass both fiction and non-fiction, it's virtually impossible; however, trying to limit myself, here's my preliminary top 10 must-read books for an understanding of modern western/European culture:
1. The Bible. I still like the Revised Standard Version: reasonably modern English with some of the poetry of the King James retained.
2. On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
3. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Plays and sonnets.
4. The Metamorphoses by Ovid/The Iliad by Homer (still deciding, but there's only room on this list for one classical epic, I think)
5. A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking
6. The Mabinogion (Celtic mythology)
7. Metamorphosis by Kafka. I might change my mind about this one and include In Camera by Jean-Paul Sartre instead.
8. The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels
9. Collected Poems of Judith Wright. Cheating a little. I wanted to include an Australian writer, a poet, and a woman in the list.
10. The Second Sex by Betty Freidan. I had to have a feminist manifesto on the list, but as I haven't read this book yet (although I've read Freidan's Fountain of Age) I would almost like to replace it with Fear of Flying by Erica Jong, A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf, or even The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf, all of which were of more influence on me personally with regard to feminist thinking.
Of this list, I have yet to read the Communist Manifesto and the Second Sex. And now for the challenge: agree, disagree or write your own top 10. Leave suggestions in comments or by email. Next entry: Top 10 novels/poetry/children's books (in English, or in translation).

Saturday, February 25, 2006

On the Origin of Species

I am happy to report that I have finished it at last. Almost exactly three years to the day since I began, I have finished reading The Origin of Species.
The paperback book itself is tired, the covers and corners tattered and taped and the pages yellowed from being carried around in my handbag. (I always like to have a book on hand, to be pulled out at those moments when there is nothing else going on and nothing important to think about -- usually in cafes or on buses.) Some of the pages bear the telltale stains of solitary cappuccinos, and I have been using a Tusker beer bottle label (local brew from Bruce's bar on Hideaway Island, Vanuatu) as a bookmark.
I started reading Origin in Vanuatu while we were on holiday, three years ago. I’d taken it along as a back-up book if I finished the one I really wanted to read. Funnily enough, I can’t remember what the other book was! (I have a feeling it was Carl Sagan’s Contact, which I didn’t enjoy nearly as much as the Fun Policeman promised I would.)
You may ask why I wanted to wade through such a venerable tome as Origin. The answer is that it is one of the most important and influential books ever written: the back cover blurb says, ‘next to the Bible’. I have read the Bible, and many other books that appear on various lists of influential works of fiction and non-fiction, so I felt that I ought to round out my education by reading this one.
I began reading Origin well before I became aware of the current controversy about Intelligent Design. In fact, it was almost the other way around: I became aware of the controversy because I was reading Origin. Although modern biologists counter the accusations of ID by denying that they are Darwinists, pointing out that our understanding of natural selection and evolution has advanced in leaps and bounds and, in some cases, diverged from Darwin’s version of the theory, they do owe (and own) allegiance to him and his bold vision: just as western civilisation cannot escape the fact that we owe a great deal of our culture and current beliefs to the Christian bible, whether we believe it is divinely inspired or not.
I was pleased to discover that, in many ways, Darwin foreshadowed developments in science during the 20th century:

We shall never, probably, disentangle the inextricable web of the affinities between members of any one class; but when we have a distinct object in view, and do not look to some unknown plan of creation, we may hope to make sure but slow progress. (Chapter XIV)

Take a bow, Crick, Watson and Rosalind Franklin.

With respect to existing forms, we should remember that we have no right to expect (excepting in rare cases) to discover directly connecting links between them, but only between each and some extinct and supplanted form. (Chapter XV)

Thomas Huxley, you go, guy. Wilberforce has got nothing.

With respect to the absence of strata rich in fossils beneath the Cambrian formation, I can recur only to the hypothesis given in the tenth chapter; namely, that though our continents and oceans have endured for an enormous period in nearly their present relative positions, we have no reason to assume that this has always been the case…. (Chapter XV)

Thus was plate tectonics, a discovery of the mid 20th century, foreshadowed in the mid 19th century.

With respect to the lapse of time not having been sufficient since our planet was consolidated for the assumed amount of organic change… I can only say, firstly, that we do not know at what rate species change as measured by years, and secondly, that many philosophers are not as yet willing to admit that we know enough of the constitution of the universe and of the interior of our globe to speculate with safety on its past duration. (Chapter XV)

Hubble and Hawking meet Humanism. (That old chestnut, the “insufficient time” argument, was raised at the Darwin Day meeting I attended. Unfortunately I hadn’t read this chapter then.)

It is so easy to hide our ignorance under such expressions as the “plan of creation”, “unity of design” &c., and to think that we give an explanation when we only re-state a fact. Any one whose disposition leads him to attach more weight to unexplained difficulties than to the explanation of a certain number of facts will certainly reject the theory…. But I look with confidence to the future, — to young and rising naturalists, who will be able to view both sides of the question with impartiality. (Chapter XV)

There’s still nothing new under the sun, and Darwin has already answered his 21st century ID-believing critics.

Reading The Origin of Species, despite the fact that many would call the science it contains obsolete in the wake of 20th century scientific progress, gave me some important insights. Firstly, I became aware of the scope of Darwin’s mind: his careful study and experimentation, his inquisitive nature and his prodigious imagination. Secondly, I became aware of the leaps and bounds that science has made in the past 200 years. Thirdly, I became aware just how much Darwin’s work does underpin commonly held beliefs today, as well as scientific endeavours.
Do I recommend that you read this book? Not necessarily. Though it is well-written, it is not an absolute pleasure to read (hence the fact that it took me three years to get through it in dribs and drabs). But if you feel that you ought to read it to better understand the history of human ideas, then it is certainly worth digging up a copy and ploughing through it.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

A good cause

A former colleague of mine is currently working (and blogging) in Tanzania. Livin' the dream of giving something back to a world that has given so much to her: I admire her for this.

Check out her blog, and the website of the school she's working for. Admiration is cheap: if you think you can do more, so much the better.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Dude sculpture II


Plasticene strikes again at sculpture club: this time in the form of a very decorative candle surround. After last week's effort, the Black Eyed Peabrain has been nagging his parents to buy some plasticene for him to make more teeny little underwater scenes. Now, we love to encourage creativity, but have you ever seen what that stuff does when it gets into the carpet? It's nearly as bad as the red wax covers off those little round cheeses you can buy in the supermarket, when they are left on the back seat of the car in the sun!
The Fun Policeman, living up to his name, quashed the plasticene request forthwith; however, the BEP proved quite resilient and persuasive (and promised faithfully that he would only play with the plasticene on the stainless-steel table top) so I relented and paid a visit to Eckersley's.
Now we have a happy little vegemite, but if so much as a skerrick of plasticene ends up squooshed into the carpet it will be my fault for giving in to him.
Parenting. It's that fine balance between encouraging creativity and independent thought in your children and maintaining your own sanity (not to mention upholstery).

PLASTICENE UPDATE
This is the BEP's multi-level plasticene seascape, constructed in a small plastic bowl. There was a "scooper diver" -- as the BEP used to say -- but he took up too much room. Instead, you can see a clam measuring about a centimetre in diameter, and the cutest little crab cowering under a coral ledge. Unfortunately, no beche-la-mers: I will have to take him to task for that. Perhaps the scooper diver took them all home for dinner.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Gizoogle it

Ho-slappin' tha B-L-to-tha-izzack Eyed Peabrain (formerly knizzown as tha Dude). This impressive shina is tha result of a playground collision between tha BEP n his mate's foreheezee (I haven't seen tha otha gizzy but I believe he came off tha betta). Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect.


This is the first paragraph of my previous post, transizliated into jive by Gizoogle.

Thanks to Kevin for the link.