Passing thoughts

As Friday was the first day of spring (for my hemisphere, anyway), I went out to the back yard to survey the local level of springiness. I didn't make a quantitative measure of the spring constant, but qualitatively, things seem to be on their way. The pink jasmine is starting to bloom: Its fragrance won't be too intoxicating until the weather is warmer, which is fine -- we wouldn't want to be too intoxicated as we fight back the well-adapted weeds that took advantage of the rainy season to get a foothold. Similarly, the wisteria is ready to explode: More intoxicating fragrance (although…
The younger Free-Ride offspring's admiration for and appreciation of the work of Jonathan Coulton continues unabated. In fact, JoCo songs have become the subject of painstaking drawings that the younger Free-Ride hopes Mr. Coulton might encounter while Googling himself (as one does). The latest offering is the younger Free-Ride offspring's conception of Skullcrusher Mountain (lyrics here): The level of detail is impressive. Maybe even a little disturbing. But I will admit to being quite taken with the half-pony, half-monkey monster: For those who didn't already know: I made this half-…
Over at Neurotopia, SciCurious has a fabulous post on the question of who is a scientist. Her discussion really teases out a lot of important nuances, and I think her analysis is spot on. I'm going to add my two cents simply to connect Sci's discussion with an issue I've pondered before: the boundaries (or lack thereof) between who we are and what we do. When someone says, "I'm a scientist," at least in common usage, there is some ambiguity about what precisely he or she is asserting: I'm employed as a scientist (or am qualified to be and am seeking such employment). I've studied science. I…
I'm couching the question in terms of the academic milieu, but I suspect people in other types of organizations face a similar kind of choice. Behind door #1: The micro-manager from Hell is in a position such that you have to interact directly with him/her. Your good ideas, your empirical grip on what will work and what will not, your sensible estimate of the time and resources required to get it done, even your understanding of the goals to which your labors are supposed to be directed -- all get discounted (because they don't necessarily fit with the micro-manager from Hell's vision and/…
We've been watching some episodes of Blue Planet here, marveling at the beautiful cinematography, as well as at how emotionally gripping they can be. Especially in the Frozen Seas episode, I found myself feeling almost wrung out by the dramatic roller-coaster. This is definitely nature red in tooth and claw (and blood-soaked maw), although as my better half points out, there's actually rather less on-camera carnage than you might expect from the narration.* I think part of the dramatic tension comes from the fact that most of the animals featured in this episode are fairly charismatic mid-…
It has come to my attention that today's date (03-03-09) makes this a Square Root Day. The Free-Ride household will be marking the occasion pretty much the way you'd expect -- with an evening meal that includes square roots. Well, approximately square. The roots include diced sweet potatoes (both the canonical orange-fleshed ones and the Japanese white-fleshed ones), carrots, parsnips, turnips, chiogga beets, and potatoes, and sliced leeks. If you want to get picky and say that the potatoes are not in fact roots so much as tubers, do not expect to be offered seconds. I've tossed the…
On our drive to the Monterey Peninsula last night, la familia Free-Ride listened to (most of) the new Jonathan Coulton album JoCo Looks Back. (We skipped a few songs whose subject matter and lyrics were deemed "too mature" for the audience in the back seat.) The Free-Ride offspring had some prior exposure to Jonathan Coulton by way of concert videos on YouTube, but this was their longest duration Coulton jam. "Do you know him," the younger offspring asked me. "No, sweetie," I replied. "I don't personally know everyone on the internet." "Well, then could you write on your blog that I…
Owing to the fact that children are vectors of disease, three out of four members of the Free-Ride household have been feverish, achy, sneezy, sleepy, and grumpy for the past few days. (It's not clear yet whether the progression of this bug will include other dwarves.) Since I'm still kind of dopey, in lieu of a content-ful post, I'm offering some random musings from the sickbed. Parental fever detection: Before we go looking for the ear-thermometer, we check for fevers the old-fashioned way: kissing the forehead. If a forehead feels hot (or even warmer than usual) to our lips, then you can…
Left by a self-proclaimed "fitness specialist" and "trainer of personal trainers" (along with all manner of contact information) as a comment on this post: Isn't it amazing that someone like Darwin is celebrated for his thoughts. Evolution is bunk! I am not a creationist either. But to evolve an animal had to make a conscious decision. An example: a fish had to decide that land was the next place it was going to make its home. How many fish had to make that decision and how many realized they would have to die before their gills evolved into lungs? Yet there are people who actually believe…
Once again, I'm sitting in my favorite airport with free wifi, bound this time for Research Triangle Park, North Carolina, for ScienceOnline'09. The conference has grown to feature two days of official sessions, plus a third day of semi-official goings on, and the place will be lousy with blogospheric glitterati. I'm going to be leading a session late Saturday afternoon on "Online science for kids (and parents)". I'll be highlighting a selection of the good content that's out there already, and I'm hoping that there will be some folks at the session interested in talking about how to create…
In a frequently recycled list of proposed New Year's resolutions, Ann Landers urges: Vow not to make a promise you don't think you can keep. However, she fails to advise a course of action in the case that you think you might not be able to live up to this vow. (Maybe she was too busy trying to construct a set containing sets that are not members of themselves.)
If memory serves, today is the day that the meeting of the Eastern Division of the American Philosophical Association draws to a close. That meeting, always conveniently scheduled to fall in the interstices between Christmas and New Year's, and more often than not located in some East Coast city with nasty winter weather (this year, Philadelphia), is traditionally where philosophy departments from U.S. colleges and universities (as well as a few from elsewhere) conduct preliminary job interviews. Except this year, apparently, a great many job searches have been frozen or canceled, owing to…
In an earlier post, I neglected to mention that Uncle Fishy and RMD engaged a party bus to transport revelers to and from the dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barn. Conditions on the roads were icy and treacherous, which means the trip took longer than it might have. Also, there was a wine pairing for each course of the dinner. So, on the way back, there was singing on the bus. A lot of singing. There were folks on the bus who knew every word to Christmas songs I didn't even know existed. For example, "Dominic the Donkey": And, owing to David Sedaris, I knew about "I Want a Hippopotamus for…
The elder Free-Ride offspring drew this picture (on two sides of the same piece of paper). I think I detect some M.C. Escher influence here. It is left to the reader to provide the hypothetical evolutionary pathways that connect each of these critters.
Blogging has been light for a while owing to the fact that the Free-Ride family was in transit to the wilds of New Jersey in order to celebrate Uncle Fishy and RMD getting hitched. Amazingly, not only did we arrive in time, but the various airlines seemed to deliver all the other guests without mishap, too. There was a good bit of snow on the ground, which the Free-Ride offspring loved. The grown-ups ... well, we were more concerned with the hazards it introduced as far as driving and walking. (By our count, in our party there were five falls on the ice. Only a couple required medical…
I was presented with this picture by the younger Free-Ride offspring. I'm not entirely sure whether it's more accurate to describe it as a map or a process diagram. However, this being December 24th, it is timely. Here is what I can glean from the various pieces of the diagram: Elves' working stadium. Of course, the elves are the backbone of Santa's work force. It's never clear to me that they are happy workers. I hear occasional rumors that the elves have tried to organize a union, only to be thwarted by the man in red. I'm not even sure Santa pays the elves, and they seem to live…
Because it seems to have become a December tradition around here, it's time for the year-in-review meme. The rule: post the first sentence of the first post for each month. JanuaryYounger offspring: In the summer, we went to Yosemite and stayed in a cabin. FebruaryElder offspring: Do you know why eggs are egg-shaped? March A colleague of mine (who has time to read actual printed-on-paper newspapers in the morning) pointed me toward an essay by Andrew Vickers in the New York Times (22 January 2008) wondering why cancer researchers are so unwilling to share their data. April It's time to…
I realize that I forgot to mention here that I've been writing posts on the Invitrogen-sponsored group blog What's New in Life Science Research. The blog is hosting discussions about stem cells, cloning, biodefense, and genetically modified organisms. (The cloning discussion just started yesterday.) As you might guess, I'm primarily blogging about the ethical dimensions of these biotechnologies. We'd love to have you get involved with the conversation. In other news: As of this morning, we have finished nearly all of our leftovers from Thanksgiving. All that remains is some cranberry…
The younger Free-Ride offspring offers this drawing of a hippo exhorting you to remember Thanksgiving. Judging by the plate in the lower right hand corner of the picture, the hippo is pretty good with portion control. Possibly, though, after cleaning its plate the hippo will eat the cornucopia in the upper left hand corner. You never can tell with hippos. Still, this hippo seems to have impeccable manners. A question to ponder while digesting your meal: Why does the Russian language have two words for hippopotamus? Are (or were) there so many hippos roaming the steppes that you'd need an…
Having posted what I'm making for Thanksgiving, I am happy to accede to your requests for the recipes. Of course, I encourage you to violate the recipes at well (since that's how I was taught to cook). I'm posting these in two batches, so if you don't see the recipe you were looking for here, it will be posted in the next recipe post, which should be up by tonight. LINDA'S PICKLED PEARS 12 pears, pared, cored, and cut into quarters (d'anjou work well) 1.5 cups honey 4 cups cranberry juice 1 cup red or white wine vinegar 6 cinnamon sticks 1 tablespoon ground ginger 1 tablespoon ground cloves…