Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

Are you a Harry Potter fan? And a skeptic? I command you to go bookmark this fanfiction and read it immediately (well, immediately after blogathon is over). It’s called Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. It’s set in an alternate universe where Harry’s adoptive father is an Oxford professor, and thus Harry is extremely well trained as a skeptical thinker.

I know what you’re thinking. “Come on, fanfiction, Jen? Didn’t you graduate middle school years ago?” But trust me – if you’re one of those people who liked to over analyze the Harry Potter universe, you have to read this fic. I’ve spent many geeky hours pondering the possible genetic inheritance pattern of magical ability. Or how horrible the English and critical thinking skills of wizards and witches must be if they stopped their traditional education at age 11. If you haven’t thought these things, you will now. For example, here’s a snippet of Harry pondering about the economy of the Wizarding World:

So not only is the wizarding economy almost completely decoupled from the Muggle economy, no one here has ever heard of arbitrage. The larger Muggle economy had a fluctuating trading range of gold to silver, so every time the Muggle gold-to-silver ratio got more than 5% away from the weight of seventeen Sickles to one Galleon, either gold or silver should have drained from the wizarding economy until it became impossible to maintain the exchange rate. Bring in a ton of silver, change to Sickles (and pay 5%), change the Sickles for Galleons, take the gold to the Muggle world, exchange it for more silver than you started with, and repeat.

Wasn’t the Muggle gold to silver ratio somewhere around fifty to one? Harry didn’t think it was seventeen, anyway. And it looked like the silver coins were actually smaller than the gold coins.

Then again, Harry was standing in a bank that literally stored your money in vaults full of gold coins guarded by dragons, where you had to go in and take out coins out of your vault whenever you wanted to spend money. The finer points of arbitraging away market inefficiencies might well be lost on them. He’d been tempted to make some sort of snide remark about the crudity of their financial system…

But the sad thing is, their way is probably better.

On the other hand, one competent hedge fundie could probably own the whole wizarding world within a week. Harry filed away this notion in case he ever ran out of money, or had a week free.

Not only is it hilarious, but it’s also full of such good information that it works as a primer to skeptical thinking. Read until Chapter 5 to give it a chance, and if you don’t like it by 10, give up. It’s a quick read, but dangerously addictive.

Thanks to Jesse Galef for showing me this right before Blogathon, thus ruining many hours of productivity for me.

This is post3 of 49 of Blogathon. Pledge a donation to the Secular Student Alliance here.

Two dinosaurs, one species

A fascinating new study suggests that our beloved Triceratops may not be exactly what we think:

DINOSAURS were shape-shifters. Their skulls underwent extreme changes throughout their lives, growing larger, sprouting horns then reabsorbing them, and changing shape so radically that different stages look to us like different species.

This discovery comes from a study of the iconic dinosaur triceratops and its close relative torosaurus. Their skulls are markedly different but are actually from the very same species, argue John Scannella and Jack Horner at the Museum of the Rockies in Bozeman, Montana.

Triceratops had three facial horns and a short, thick neck-frill with a saw-toothed edge. Torosaurus also had three horns, though at different angles, and a much longer, thinner, smooth-edged frill with two large holes in it. So it’s not surprising that Othniel Marsh, who discovered both in the late 1800s, considered them to be separate species.

Now Scannella and Horner say that triceratops is merely the juvenile form of torosaurus. As the animal aged, its horns changed shape and orientation and its frill became longer, thinner and less jagged. Finally it became fenestrated, producing the classic torosaurus form (see diagram, right).

This extreme shape-shifting was possible because the bone tissue in the frill and horns stayed immature, spongy and riddled with blood vessels, never fully hardening into solid bone as happens in most animals during early adulthood. The only modern animal known to do anything similar is the cassowary, descended from the dinosaurs, which develops a large spongy crest when its skull is about 80 per cent fully grown.

This sort of realization is so cool to me because it seems simple and intuitive, but it took us so long to figure out. We know that our contemporary organisms can make great morphological changes as they age – why didn’t we think the same thing about dinosaurs? And when you think of the magnitude of some of these changes, it makes you wonder what other dinos we have wrong. I mean, an alien looking down at our planet probably wouldn’t think a butterfly came from a caterpillar. But that’s an extreme example. Maybe an alien would label a baby and adult chicken differently.

What’s neater is that we can imply some things about the purpose of the frill just from knowing how it changes over time:

The finding has implications for the supposed defensive function of the triceratops’ frill. “If I was a triceratops I wouldn’t want anything too damaging to happen to my frill, as it had numerous large blood vessels running over the surface,” says Scannella. “I don’t imagine holding up a thin bony shield that can gush blood would be a very effective means of defence.”

Instead it is likely that the headgear was a display to signal an individual’s maturity to other members of the species. Differences between the sexes is another possibility but less likely, says Scannella.

But rest assured, Triceratops fans. Torosaurus is the species that is being abolished – our childhood memories are still in tact. Though I’m sure the Blue Ranger will be a little upset knowing he was riding a baby dinosaur this whole time.*

*Yes, I really am that geeky.

This is post 2 of 49 of Blogathon. Pledge a donation to the Secular Student Alliance here.

It was a dark and stormy morning

Blogathon has begun somewhat ominously, with dark clouds, heavy rain, and rolling thunder. It’s not the craziest weather I’ve seen – just a typical Midwestern thunderstorm.

But that got me thinking on how different someone’s idea of “typical” weather can be. If lightning is striking down the block, we’re usually looking out the window instead of running for cover. Power cutting out doesn’t even make us bat an eye anymore. Of course, the last time the power cut out here was while I was watching Inception at our local movie theater, and no one was quite sure if that was supposed to happen or not. That’s how much that movie blew our minds.

The same thing goes for tornadoes.

“Tornado Watch” to a normal person: Take cover, tornadoes may be forming!

“Tornado Watch” to a Midwesterner: OMGCOOL tornadoes may be forming, go plaster yourself to a window to watch for them!

and

“Tornado Warning” to a normal person: Holy shit a tornado! Get in the basement!

“Tornado Warning” to a Midwesterner: Holy shit a tornado! Appreciate that green sky until that thing seems to be ripping off rooftops, then reluctantly march down to the basement.

I didn’t realize how crazy we might sound until I came to college, where I was exposed to people who hadn’t lived in the Midwest their whole lives. You’ve lived through hurricanes? That 4.0 magnitude earthquake that titillated us Hoosiers didn’t even wake you up?! You’re crazy. Excuse me while I go watch energy shoot out of the sky and wind funnels of pure destruction.

The best reaction to our tornado culture had to be from my friend from London. A couple days after he first moved to Purdue, we had our monthly tornado siren check go off. If you’re from the area, you’ll know this as the annoying sound that wakes you up on the first Saturday morning of every month (seriously, Saturday morning? How cruel). We’re so used to the sound that it’s totally ineffective – usually when it goes off we all just sit around discussing it. Hey, is that the tornado siren? Is that for real this time? Does that mean warning or watch? Someone look up the info on their iPhone instead of us immediately taking cover.

His reaction?

“I thought the Germans were coming!”

Priceless.

What natural disasters are you used to? Which ones really freak you out?

This is post 1 of 49 of Blogathon. Pledge a donation to the Secular Student Alliance here.

Don’t forget: Blogathon tomorrow!

This is just a friendly reminder that my 24 hour blogathon for charity starts tomorrow (Sat, July 31) at 8am EST. I’ll be making a new blog post every half hour, which is why you haven’t seen much today – saving up for my 49 posts! We’ve already raised $1,000 for the Secular Student Alliance – double our total from last year – but I know we can do even better.

You can help by spreading the world via blog, twitter, semaphores, or whatever your heart desires. Or you can pledge! Maybe you want to donate for every time I write an especially good post, or whenever I make a bad pun. You get to decide!

The SSA is a fabulous organization that helps atheist, agnostic, and humanist student groups across the country. Among many things, they help provide speakers, fund events and service projects, and provide brochures and aide. If you’re interested in the future of the secular movement, I can’t think of a better organization to support.

Thanks again for your help! I hope you enjoy my increasingly insane sleep-deprived blogging tomorrow. See you bright and early!

If you can’t find a man, settle for the government

Because bureaucracy is the best sugar daddy around. At least, this is the tactic conservative activist Phyllis Schlafly thinks unmarried women are taking (emphasis mine):

Conservative activist Phyllis Schlafly took aim at “unmarried women” at a recent fundraiser and in an interview with TPM, saying that they overwhelmingly support President Obama and are all on welfare. Democrats aim to exploit the comments to pressure the more than 60 Republican candidates who have earned Schlafly’s endorsement.

“Unmarried women, 70% of unmarried women, voted for Obama, and this is because when you kick your husband out, you’ve got to have big brother government to be your provider,” said Schlafly, president of Eagle Forum and infamous for her opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment.

A liberal organization recorded the Schlafly comments at a Troy, Michigan fundraiser Saturday for a Republican congressional candidate, the Detroit Free Press reported. In an interview with TPM this afternoon Schlafly stood by her comments and said Obama is trying to boost welfare rolls to help with his reelection and to help Democrats.

“Yes I said that. It’s true, too. All welfare goes to unmarried moms,” Schlafly told TPM. “They are trying to line up their constituency for Obama and Democrats against Republican candidates.”

…My brain just exploded from all the stupid. Let’s go through this step by step, since hearing those quotes has eroded my ability to form more complex paragraph structure.

1. Not all unmarried women are the result of women kicking their husbands out. Some husbands may have left on their own accord. Or, you know, there’s that option where a woman never had a husband to begin with, but that would probably just blow Schlafly’s mind. Have to take it slowly when we’re dealing with the type of conservatives who go into shock every time a woman leaves the kitchen for a reason other than bringing her man a martini.

2. Regardless of the reason the woman is single, that does not mean a woman needs a provider. Seriously, did we hop in a time machine to the 1950s or something? Can someone let Schlafly know we’re in the year 2010, where women are actually allowed to be educated and have careers? Apparently I’m doing something wrong because I haven’t settled down yet. Well, I’m sure I do a lot of things wrong if we’re using her standards.

3. The idea that all welfare goes to unmarried moms is simply false. Anyone ever hear of Social Security? Medicare? Unemployment benefits? This isn’t a failure to fact check, it’s either willful obliviousness or purposeful deception. You can guess which one I think is more likely.

4. Notice how she interchangeably uses “unmarried women” and “unmarried moms”? You mean women can actually not reproduce?! Inconceivable! Put those baby makers to use, like God intended! But don’t expect any help from the government. That’s just ludicrous.

Oh Iran, the irony

The leader of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is apparently not a fan of Paul the Psychic Octopus (emphasis mine):

He claims that the octopus is a symbol of decadence and decay among “his enemies”.

Paul, who lives at the Oberhausen Sea Life Centre, in Germany, won the hearts of the Spanish by predicting their World Cup victory.

He became an international star after predicting the outcome of all seven German World Cup matches accurately.

However, the Iranian president accused the octopus of spreading “western propaganda and superstition.” Paul was mentioned by Mr Ahmadinejad on various occasions during a speech in Tehran at the weekend.

“Those who believe in this type of thing cannot be the leaders of the global nations that aspire, like Iran, to human perfection, basing themselves in the love of all sacred values,” he said.

Wait, remind me again which country it was that had a cleric saying immodestly dressed women caused earthquakes? Oh, right, Iran. I mean, I was also a bit annoyed how the media popularized something superstitious like Paul, but I’m a bit annoyed at all superstitions. Apparently Ahmadinejad’s thinking goes something more like:

Psychic octopus predicting World Cup winners = propaganda, superstition, decadence, and decay

Women causing murderous natural disasters because they dare to show their hair or ankle = human perfection

Right.

I should not be allowed to drive bloggers

I’m back from the Secular Student Alliance conference! I apologize again for the dearth of blog posts. I was itching to blog the whole time, but I didn’t have the time or the internet access. Lucky for you that in just a couple days, I’ll be pooping out 49 blog posts in a single day! Hopefully that will more than make up for my absence. But since I made the mistake of checking my email before flopping into bed, here’s one funny story you get from the trip.

I have realized that I should not drive bloggers.

Not because I hate bloggers or I’m a horrible driver or something. God just hates atheist bloggers in transit, apparently. When I had to pick up PZ from the airport, his flight arrived horribly late and I felt like I was going to kill both of us speeding off to our event. When I had to drive Greta Christina to Chicago, it was during a nasty blizzard, where we passed many cars in ditches.

And now I had a driving adventure with Hemant.

Hemant was nice enough to pick up me and my friend Mark on his way to Columbus, OH since we’re fairly close to him. Half way into the six hour drive we decided to switch so he could nap as a passenger, instead of behind the wheel. He pulls over and we trade places.

Me: Man, your side of the car is really hot.
Hemant: Huh, I was just going to say the same thing about your side.

A couple minutes go by and we realize the air conditioning magically broke right when we pulled over. Not the end of the world, but definitely unpleasant since it was in the 90s and humid. Thankfully we were all sweating like crazy, so I didn’t have to worry about my individual stinkiness.

I drive for a bit more. Hemant’s already sleeping.

Mark: Do you smell smoke?
Me: …Yeah.

In retrospect this should have been a red flag, but it smelled so similar to cigarettes we thought we were just driving by a particularly stinky area. Eventually it goes away, and I figure I’ll start to be worried if I see flames shoot out from under the hood.

We’re all dying from the heat, but the zoo is in sight. We’re just stuck waiting to turn at the light, and then we’re in the parking lot. Except there’s just one problem.

Me: Um, Hemant, nothing happens when I press the gas pedal.
Everyone: [insert explitives of your choice here]

Eventually after much restarting, the car decides to live again. I make it to the parking lot, trying not to ever come to a full stop. This was especially interesting when I needed to pay for parking and I’m trying to exchange money without coming to a full stop. We decide to just park the car, go to the zoo with the rest of the group, and deal with it later.

Dealing with it later = Realizing the car doesn’t start at all.

Thankfully my friend Mike was there with his own car and called AAA for us. So we spent the rest of the afternoon following a tow truck and scheming how we could possibly get back to Chicago without Hemant’s car. Eventually we found out his car could be fixed, and we were able to get back to Chicagoland in one piece.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about Hemant’s wallet.

I’m starting to think this is compelling evidence for the existence of a God who hates atheist bloggers – not enough to strike them down, but just enough to annoy them with horrible driving experiences. Hopefully I never have to drive Richard Dawkins around – I can’t imagine what major catastrophe would happen then.

Open thread

Instead of waking up early and preparing some blog entries to autopost, I decided to sleep an extra 45 minutes this morning. And by that I mean I slept through my alarm and ran through my house swearing as I frantically got ready to leave for Ohio.
So, open thread! Talk about whatever is on your mind, and feel free to shamelessly self promote.

I may or may not blog more while here – wifi doesn’t work and I’m going to be super busy, so we’ll see. Sorry guys, blogger fail.