Who are you going to believe? The geologist or the professional pageant contestant?

I’m from the Pacific Northwest, and I am horribly biased — it’s the most beautiful place on the planet. So I quite like Dana Hunter’s tour of the geology of a subduction zone. It’s a perspective with which I’m unfamiliar, focused as I usually am on complex shorelines and soothing rain showers and slugs and salmon.

And then I learn that the recently crowned Miss Seattle, a carpetbagger from Arizona, hates the place.

Ew, I’m seriously hating seattle right now Take me back to az! Ugh can’t stand cold rainy Seattle and the annoying people.

I say run her out of town on a rail and hand the tiara over to Dana.

Oh, no, not group selection again!

I am abrupt in my dismissal: I see no evidence nor plausible mechanism for group selection, and I don’t even understand why some scientists continue to insist it had to have happened, other than a fondness for some kind of vague deus ex machina to reach down and smooth over the indirect and inefficient mechanisms that can produce altruism and properties of populations. And discomfort with the fact that evolution is weirder and less straightforward than our brains can imagine is not an argument for endorsing wishful thinking.

Jerry Coyne rips into the latest eruption of group selectionism. Go there for the details.

(Also on Sb)

Carnival of Evolution #45

The latest Carnival of Evolution is buggy in more ways than one: I couldn’t get it to load in Mac Firefox with all my adblockers in place (but it worked fine on Google Chrome), and also every link is full of bugs. Literal bugs, not the software kind.

All I can say is that it needs more squid. Then not only would it be prettier, but it would be slick and smooth and supple.

(Also on Sb)

We are having a wedding anniversary in about two weeks…

…and when I looked up what the blood-sucking merchants of the world have declared to be traditional anniversary gifts, I notice that the 32nd anniversary is supposed to be commemorated with “molluscs”. At least, I think that’s what it said — what the hell do I care what the National Retail Jeweler Association thinks I’m supposed to get her? (And what’s with the 44th anniversary: I’m supposed to get her groceries?)

OK, anyway, as I was saying, molluscs for anniversary … I’m thinking this fabulous Valentina Ramos Octopus Bloom Duvet Cover is both romantic and titillating. What do you think?

(I now expect the phone to ring any moment and hear the words, “DON’T YOU DARE DECORATE MY HOUSE!” She knows that madness lies that way.)

Episode CCCVII: Flamboyant emergence

I’ve been neglecting you, readers! This has been a killer meeting in Orlando, with the schmoozing starting at 8am and then non-stop talks and then everything dribbling away into exhaustion somewhere north of 11pm. And the wireless sucks. Ophelia has been posting brief dispatches, but I’ve been buried so far.

I give my talk today, and then fly off with a long long travel day…and my flights got juggled about so I’m not even sure when I’m leaving yet. So I figure I better leave you with something good, so here it is: a moment of awesome transcendent beauty.

Squee, sir; I must say with great reverence, squee.

(Episode CCCVI: Why Sean Bean gotta die?.)