Laelaps explains the basic concepts of horse evolution. Now if only we could get the creationists to actually read that summary — they keep saying that the evolution of the horse has been disproven by the fossil record.
Everyone in academia knows it: textbook publishers abuse the system. Jim Fiore decries the high cost of college textbooks, and I have to agree completely. Basic textbooks at the lower undergraduate levels do not need a new edition every year or two, not even in rapidly changing fields like biology.
Churning editions is just a way for the publisher to suck more money out of a captive audience. It makes it difficult for students to sell off their used textbooks, it gives faculty the headache of having to constantly update their assignments, and if you allow your students to use older editions, it means we have to maintain multiple assignments. It’s extraordinarily annoying, and to no good purpose at the university (to great purpose at the publisher, though).
Right now, I do tell my students that I allow them to use the current or the past two editions. I also tell them where they can pick up copies online, and I even encourage them to get them used. I am doing my best to subvert the publisher’s evil schemes.
On the plus side of their ledgers, though, I also urge the students to keep their textbooks once the course is over. These are valuable reference books that they may well find handy throughout their college careers and in their life afterwards. I’ve never quite understood the rush to dispose of those books the instant the semester ends — I kept my undergraduate biology and chemistry books until they fell apart (another gripe: the increasingly cheap bindings of these books), and I still have several of my old history texts on my shelves.
Everyone: get on your email or your phone, contact your representative, and tell them to support HR2826, the house bill to restore habeas corpus. You can find the text of the bill here (search by bill number for “HR 2826”). This is an opportunity to tell your congresspeople to support a positive action to restore a little bit of respect for the constitution, instead of the usual desperate call to oppose some odious scrap of legislative defilement coming out of the far right reaches of political hell.
Greg Laden has an excellent article on the genetics and evolution of race — basically, it’s an irrelevant pairing of concepts.
“Eat your heart out, Philip Rushton,” indeed.
Saint Gasoline speculates about a common idea: using a time machine to travel far in the future to reap the benefits of compound interest. It won’t work!
Lots of bank accounts get abandoned — forgotten, the owner dies, etc., but you don’t have a lot of bankers sitting around fretting, “Uh-oh, Marcus Junius Glabrius deposited 15 denarii in 61 BC, and never closed his account. I sure hope he doesn’t come strolling in tomorrow, or we’ll have to give him Switzerland, France, and a couple of small African nations to cover the interest.” No. That’s because the bankers sit around watching their accounts, and when Marcus doesn’t stop by for a century they say, “Oh ho! That money is mine, now!” Either that or the next regime sweeps in, confiscates all the money and sets fire to the records, and uses the bank building to quarter their horses or mistresses.
St. G regrets that his plan has the unfortunate glitch that while he is a billionaire, he has to live under the tentacles of the giant squid overlords. This is of no concern. When the squid overlords see St. G, they don’t see a banking customer: they see a pleasing sample of mushi (it’s like sushi, only it’s from the future, and it uses mammal meat and doesn’t bother with the rice and seaweed. Or the little cups of sake. Or table manners.)
While Revere is showing a rerun of that glorious anti-religion riff (it’s worth listening to again!), here’s another clip of Marcus Brigstocke being right in every particular once more.
Hey, University of Missouri-Columbia readers: Elliot Sober is coming your way. At 4:00 on the 20th (this week!), Elliot Sober will be speaking on Evolution versus Intelligent Design. It should be fun; somebody report back to me, OK?
Closer to my home, Steve Pinker will be speaking at the Minneapolis Public Library at 7:00 on the same day on ‘The Stuff of Thought: Language as a Window Into Human Nature.’ I might be able to make it to that one.
It’s late, I’m going to be unconscious in my bed, those of you with insomnia or living in distant time zones need something to chat about — so here, just for you, it’s a Pharyngula Late Night open thread, primed with a few fun carnivals.
What’s that? It’s not enough? Late night chats need something really weird to keep them lively? OK, here, how about Creation Ministries International. Be sure to read their “What we believe” page — this is the Christianity everybody assures me doesn’t really exist.
Still not enough? How about the Hovindite efforts to suppress free speech on the web? Yeah, I know, just annoying and creepy.
Hindus riot over blasphemy! Bridge built by army of monkeys saved!
Hmmm. Tough crowd. How about “Priest defrauds congregation! Lives in luxury on proceeds from promises never kept!” Dang. But they all do that.
Sorry, gang. I’ve got nothing. You’ll have to entertain yourselves for a while.
By the addition of a new candidate who actually believes in God. Yes, everyone, Alan Keyes has entered the race.
Dear jebus, why is the race for the election of the president of the most militarily powerful country on earth such a ludicrous joke? Shouldn’t this be an office for serious people with serious plans and serious expertise, and shouldn’t certifiable lunatics like Keyes be given the cold shoulder? (Oh, right: they can’t do that, because if sanity were a prerequisite, the entire Republican slate would evaporate.)
Take note of that name, just in case. This ambitious young zealot might just be a future president of the Christian States of America (in which case, look for me at my new home in Australia).
More likely, though, he’ll be one of those desperate men in shabby suits handing out bizarre political pamphlets at the mall, wondering why his life is such a sad sack of futility. But you never know! Maybe he’ll be incredibly successful, and instead end up cowering in a bunker with a pistol, wondering why his life is such a sad sack of futility.
