Captain Kirk always was willing to violate the Prime Directive when it suited him. He went on Reddit to do an IAmA, and guess what he did? Shatner dissed Reddit and the whole idea of irresponsible speech!
Now watch: I’m going to immediately derail the whole comment thread by starting a real nerd war: This just confirms that Star Trek TOS was the very best of all the Star Treks.
Another phase of my big project this year has launched: we’re now accepting student applications for our HHMI summer research program. Most of you won’t care yet; this program is only available to UMM students. But you’ll care in a few years when our squads of adequately trained scientists erupt from Morris, Minnesota.
Oh, yay, someone thinks the same way I do. I saw Les Miserables this week, and let me just say…it was the worse movie experience I’ve had since The Expendables (but for completely different reasons, of course). And just to put it in perspective, I watched Warning From Space with the @MockTM gang last week. It didn’t make me moan in pain as much as this movie did.
Anyway, the review is spot on.
At 158 minutes, this is a long musical film (it’s was a long book, and I’m talking about Victor Hugo’s, not the libretto) but I was shocked to find that it has only one song, and that’s the "Dream-de-Dream-de-Weem-de-Weem" song. The other musical numbers seem to draw their melodic inspiration from the recitatives, the kinds of tuneless tunes you might absent-mindedly whisper under your breath while you vacuum — only here, of course, they’re belted out at the tops of the actors’ lungs.
Yeah, they made a ‘musical’ with only one song, and they slugged it out early in the movie so we could spend the next two hours wondering when there was going to be some more music.
Here’s a deeply flawed parody of that one song.
It’s missing a few key pieces, like being in really intense closeup so you can see every pore and the hideous blotchy mottling of poorly applied excessive makeup splattered on a 19th century French prostitute. Also, she’s not emotional enough: you need to be able to see the watery mucus pooling in her nostrils, so you can sit on the edge of your seat through half the number wondering when it was going to flood onto her lip.
One star. In extreme closeup. With swarms of sunspots like rot corrupting the surface.
A few days back my neighbor Teddy Quinn asked me if I’d be willing to provide a minute or so of audio on the whole “bobcat trapping in Joshua Tree” issue I mentioned this week. Said audio would be aired on his new project, Radio Free Joshua Tree, a community podcast.
He asked me for a minute and I gave him five, but he played the whole thing anyway. It’s at minute 17 of hour 2 of his variety show for February 3, the whole thing of which you should check out. My neighborhood is replete with good musicians, and Teddy is kind of a local impresario curating their work and boosting their careers.
But if you don’t have time for that, or if you hate music, I’ve posted just my audio at Coyote Crossing as well.
I was reminded, doing this, of how easy and fun audio work is. I’ve decided I want to do more. Probably mostly ruminations on life in the desert, that kind of thing. If you want to be kept in the loop, my Twitter account is probably where I’ll announce new recordings more reliably. Follow me there to be part of the in-crowd.
Right on, Lawrence Krauss.
His other point, that teaching creationism is willful child abuse, I’d agree with too, but I’d broaden it: failing to give your child a full opportunity to explore the world of the mind is child abuse.
She stormed into the living room, throwing her tools at the storage bench. The clatter would have startled him, if he hadn’t heard her cursing all the way up the hill. “Vile-assed, scum-eating, mouth-breathing idiots!” She pointed an angry finger at him. “They wouldn’t know competence if it dropped a hammer on their toe, and all they can do is sit around and make stupid fucking comments about women’s body parts.”
“Sweetheart, really. You shouldn’t let the Neanderthals get to you like this.”
“I’m not talking about the Neanderthals. You don’t get it. I’m about fucking ready to move in with the Neanderthals. This is the men in your clan. The so-called progressive males of our vaunted fucking Cro-Magnon community. They’re a bunch of mis-bred, ill-trained, self-absorbed, mouth breathing, own-breath-smelling…”
I gave a talk in Canada this fall. It was not a happy talk. Now you too can be miserable.
If you really want to be sad, read the comments. It’s the usual youtube yahoos.
Debbie Goddard has a most excellent post on Skepchick (she should write more!), declaring that the atheist movement should care about poverty.
Unless we address the classism and broaden the elitist culture of the atheist movement, the underprivileged students in the Philadelphia public school classrooms that I’m familiar with and in the South Los Angeles classrooms that Sikivu Hutchinson works in will continue to be marginalized and will never have access to the “enlightened” educational opportunities that the movement too often takes for granted.
Some would say it’s not the movement’s responsibility to address poverty and public education. I disagree. This is a movement; we want the world to be a better place than it is now. We want to reduce suffering and foster a just society. If we agree there’s no cosmic justice system and there’s no reward for suffering after we die, we need to effect change here, now, in this life, in this world, for as many people as we can reach. Education is key for change to occur.
You won’t be surprised to learn that I agree completely, and that education is an excellent priority for atheist communities to pursue. She cites the Black Skeptics article I mentioned earlier today, in which they are looking for donations for their First in the Family Humanist Scholarship. It’s a worthy cause, and I donated…you should too, if you can.
Every effort to improve human knowledge is a contribution to atheism, so anything you can do will help; teach a child, donate books to your local library, volunteer at your elementary school. It’s our cunning godless scheme to make the world a better place.
My students are also blogging here:
We began today with chocolate. Always a good thing at 8am, I think — so I brought a candy bar to class. Then I told the students that I loved and respected them all equally and that they all had equal potential, but that I was going to mark just one person as special by giving them that candy bar*. So I asked them how I could decide who should get it, telling them right off that dividing it wasn’t an allowed solution, and that yes, this could be an openly unfair process.
There were lots of suggestions: we could do it by random chance. I could throw it into the middle of the room and let them fight over it. We could analyze everyone’s DNA and give it to the most average person…or the most genetically unusual. I could just give it to the first person to raise their hand, or the person closest to me, or the person farthest from me. We could have a competition of some sort, and the winner gets it. I could give it to the person who wants it most, or who needs it most.
The point I was making is that this is a common developmental problem, that you have a potentially uniform set of cells and that somehow one or a few have to be distinguished as different, and carry out a different genetic program than another set of cells. One cop-out is to invoke mosaicism: that is, they aren’t uniform, but inherit different sets of cytoplasmic determinants that make them different from the very beginning, but that even in that case, these determinants aren’t detailed enough to specify every single cell fate in most organisms. Even with an initial prepattern, you’re eventually going to end up with a field of cells, like the dorsal side of the fly wing, and within that uniform field, some cells will have to be programmed to be epithelial, others to be bristles, others to be neurons. And that means that in every organism, even the most classically mosaic, you’ll reach a point where cells have to process information from their environment and regulate to build differential structures.
And with that I went on to talk about some animals that were judged as being mostly mosaic in character: molluscs, tunicates, echinoderms, and nematodes. Even here, these animals all required complex molecular interactions to build their embryos.
For example, I’d earlier used echinoderms as classic examples of regulative development. You can dissociate them at the 4-cell stage and each blastomere can go on to build a complete embryo. But at the 8-cell stage, when the cleavage plane separates an animal half from a vegetal half, that’s no longer true: the top four cells when isolated are animalized, forming only a ciliated ball, while the bottom four cells are vegetalized, only making a static blob with a bit of a skeleton inside. Clever experiments can quantitatively juggle these cells around, removing just the bottom 4 cells (the micromeres) at the 16-cell stage, or assembling composite embryos with different ratios of the different tiers of cells, and get different degrees of development. Even when you’re discussing an organism in which you’d call the pattern of development mosaic, it absolutely depends on ongoing cell:cell signaling at every step, and the final form is a consequence of interactions within the embryo. It’s a mosaic-regulative continuum.
I also described very superficially the work of Davidson and Cameron on specification events in echinoderms. These interactions can be drawn as a kind of genetic circuit diagram, where what you’re seeing is the pattern of genes being switched on and off. We can describe a cell type as the output of mappable gene circuitry, and we can even identify modules of networks of genes associated with a particular kind of cell, and that we can also see a limited number of genes that mediate interactions.
Next week I promised to start going into more detail, when we start talking about early fly development and axis decisions. The next class we’re actually going to switch gears a bit and discuss Sean Carroll’s Endless Forms Most Beautiful.
Slides used in this talk (pdf).
*Yeah, I lied again. I brought enough candy bars for everyone, and after we’d generated a list of ways to share just one, I gave them to everyone. They’ll never trust me again.
My students are also blogging here:
You really can’t teach a class by lecturing at them…especially not an 8am class. But sometimes there is just such a dense amount of information that I have to get across before the students know what to ask that I have to just tell them some answers. My compromise to deal with this eternal problem is to mix it up; some days are lecture days, others are discussion days. And today was a discussion day.
I’ve been talking at them for the past two weeks, basically working to bring them up to a 1950s understanding of the field of developmental biology, with a glimmering of the molecular answers to come and some of the general concepts, so that they’re equipped to start thinking about the contemporary literature. So I had them read this paper before class:
Kerszberg M, Wolpert L (2007) Specifying Positional Information in the Embryo: Looking Beyond Morphogens. Cell 130(2):205–209.
And then today they got into small groups and tried to explain it to each other. I primed them by suggesting that they try to define the terms positional information, gradient, morphogen, and polarity, and mentioned that I was playing a dirty trick on them, giving them a paper to introduce a basic concept that at the same time was pointing out some of the difficulties and problems of the idea, so I expected them to also do some critical thinking and question the concepts.
So they went at it. It went well; they had some lively conversations going on, which I always worry won’t happen with early morning classes. I find it helpful to ask students to try to poke holes in an idea, rather than just recite by rote what the paper says — it sends them hunting rather than gathering.
Several students noted that having a simple continuum of a molecule begs the question of how that gets translated into many discrete cell types; why does having one concentration of a morphogen make a cell differentiate into a thorax, while a very slightly lower concentration means it differentiates into an abdomen? It’s all well and good to suggest that a couple of overlapping gradients can specify position, like laying out a piece of graph paper with coordinates on it, but it doesn’t explain how that gets translated into position-specific tissues. I was most pleased that several of them, while groping for an answer, related it to the lac operon in E. coli, and brought up the idea of thresholds of gene activation. Yay! That so sets up future discussions about early fly embryogenesis, where that is exactly the answer.
I think they also got the idea that an explanation for general specification of body parts, for example, may not apply for explaining polarity within a body part; we may have to think about some kind of hierarchy of regulation, where we progressively partition the embryo into smaller and smaller units, with different mechanisms at different scales. They might be catching on to the depths of the problems to come.
Another way the paper primed the students was that it very briefly introduces a whole bunch of specific molecules: dpp, bicoid, sonic hedgehog, activin. They got a very general idea of the broad roles these molecules play, all part of my devious grand plan. When we start talking about the details of how animals set up dorsal-ventral polarity, for instance, and dpp/BMP start coming up in more specific contexts, I want them to be familiar old friends — molecules they already knew casually and informally, and now see doing very specific things, and interacting with another set of molecules, which now also joins their circle of pals. Before I’m done with them, they’re all going to regard these developmental signals and regulators as part of their family!
