Breakfast!

May 14, 2016 • 9:15 am

It’s not even 9 a.m. and my grocery shopping is done for the day.  On the way to get comestibles, I took a detour to Pilsen, the Hispanic area of the city (or rather, one of them), and went to the Nuevo Leon Panaderia (bakery), where no English is spoken but the pastries are fresh and inexpensive.  In the shop I spied a giant donut—the biggest I’ve ever seen—and snapped it up. Here it is:

Photo on 5-14-16 at 8.39 AM

 

I’m nomming it now (no way I’ll finish it!), and it’s very good. What’s great about Mexican pastries is that they’re not as sweet as those of other cultures, which makes them perfect for accompanying a nice coffee or a Mexican hot chocolate.

There will be no comments on how this is unhealthy; you know how I feel about Food Fascists.

Caturday felids trifecta: A pre-Henri existentialist French cat; birthday kitty; cat nurses squirrel and teaches it to purr

May 14, 2016 • 8:45 am
Reader David (or was it Malcolm? I’ve lost my notes), sent an existential French cat, apparently made before Henri became famous:
 The notes:
I thought you might like this: “A Still Life”.
The maker made it before he was aware of Henri, he even thought he had made it before the Henri series started, though looking at the dates of the videos this isn’t the case.
However, Know Your Meme shows that Henri didn’t go viral until 2012, and the video that took Henri to Internet stardom was Part Deux, published one month after “A Still Life”. So while I believed the guy, I think that there’s evidence that his idea was original, and not Henri inspired.
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Several readers sent me these pictures from Imgur of a kitty enjoying a birthday cake. Since cats can’t taste sweetness (you knew that, right?), its attraction to the frosting must involve either cream or butter. Here’s one advantage of cats over d*gs: the latter can’t clean themselves:
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Do you do anything for your cat on its birthday?
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Well cut off my legs and call me Shorty! Here, apparently is a baby squirrel adopted by a cat, and it’s also learned to purr. I wonder if a. cat milk is okay for squirrels, and b. why don’t the teeth (when they come in) damage the cat?
And, extra lagniappe: a paralyzed kitten gets some help. However, they need to work in the design of its chair, as when it stops it’s stymied. Perhaps they’ll get some help from an expert:

h/t: David, Lauren, Vera, Malcolm

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 14, 2016 • 7:30 am

Let’s finish up the batch of photos sent by reader David Molloy, whose first installment was posted yesterday. As he noted in that post:

Fulfilled a lifetime ambition last month and traveled to the geomorphological wonderland that is Chile (a great recommendation for next WEIT trip AFTER Australia). The Andes, Patagonia and the Atacama lived up to every expectation and more.

All the animals featured are quite common and you’d have to be pretty unlucky to not see any of them if you stayed for any length of time.

Lesser rhea (Rhea pennata), also called “Darwin’s rhea,” as he was the first to collect it, sending specimens to England where they were described.

01-Lesser Rhea
Chimango caracara (Milvango chimango):
02-Chimango caracara
Andean condor (Vultur gryphus), the world’s largest flying bird if you take both weight and wingspan into account. The wings can be up to 3.3 meters (nearly 11 feet) across.
03-Andean condor
Black-chested buzzard-eagle (Geranoaetus melanoleucus)
04-Black-chested buzzard-eagle
Guanaco (Lama guanacoie):
05-Guanaco
06-Guanaco
And from Stephen Barnard, a trio of Great Horned Owlets (Bubo virginianus) on his neighbor’s property. Don’t you just want to cuddle them? (But check out the talons):
Great horned owlets

Saturday: Hili dialogue

May 14, 2016 • 6:30 am

Okay, from now on I’ll give just one event in history, one birth, and one death per day. On May 14, 1796, Edward Jenner gave the first smallpox vaccination, starting a program that has ended with the complete eradication of the disease from humans. On this day in 1897, the great jazz instrumentalist (clarinet and sax) Sidney Bechet was born, and, in 1931, Denys Finch Hatton, the lover of Isak  Blixen, died in an airplane crash. Here is the gorgeous passage from Isak Dinisen’s Out of Africa (which I’ve reproduced before) memorializing Finch Hatton. It always brings me to tears:

After I had left Africa, Gustav Mohr wrote to me of a strange thing that had happened by Denys’ grave, the like of which I have never heard. “The Masai,” he wrote, “have reported to the District Commissioner at Ngong, that many times, at sunrise and sunset, they have seen lions on Finch-Hatton’s grave in the Hills. A lion and a lioness have come there, and stood, or lain, on the grave for a long time. Some of the Indians who have passed the place in their lorries on the way to Kajado have also seen them. After you went away, the ground round the grave was levelled out, into a sort of big terrace, I suppose that the level place makes a good site for the lions, from there they can have a view over the plain, and the cattle and game on it.”

It was fit and decorous that the lions should come to Denys’s grave and make him an African monument. “And renowned be thy grave.” Lord Nelson himself, I have reflected, in Trafalgar Square, has his lions made only out of stone.

Meanwhile in Dobrzyn, Hili messes up and tries pathetically to recover; after all, she’s a Cat and can never be wrong:

Hili: Can you take my selfie?
A: How can I take YOUR selfie? You’re all mixed up.
Hili: Oh, we are one self.
P1040252
In Polish:
Hili: Czy możesz zrobić mi selfie?
Ja: Jak mogę zrobić TOBIE selfie? Coś pomyliłaś.
Hili: Oh, my jesteśmy jednością.
And some bonus photos from Andrzej. The cherries are coming along nicely in the orchard, with timely rains swelling the crop. And the beasts are cavorting with each other:
Pies for me in the offing!:
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And a nice man rescues a kitten from certain death by snake constriction. I don’t care if he’s circumvented natural selection:

Meanwhile, over at PuffHo’s “Religion” page

May 13, 2016 • 2:45 pm

Lord (that’s a metaphor), what a dog’s breakfast of pandering, religious apologetics, and feel-good spirituality that site contains! It’s times like these that I’m really glad I’m an atheist.

If you must read the article, click on its screenshot.

Runner up in the “Who cares?” category:

Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.50.41 AM

How can a reason be beautiful? Anyway, this is one in PuffHo’s continuing series of profiles of women who love to wear the hijab. They never say anything about women who are forced to wear the hijab (or niqab or burqua, etc.)Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.50.09 AMThis one is meant to soothe those atheists who yearn for God—it’s okay to go back!Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.52.04 AM

Seriously, PuffHo? MIRACLES?

Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.50.28 AM

A failed attempt at accommodationism:

Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.51.58 AM

 

This is my favorite in the “Who cares?” category:

Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 11.49.56 AM

Hint: they aren’t real mothers, just fictional ones:

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PLOS Biology weighs in on Mukherjee affair: “Writing for Story distorts and cripples explanatory prose”

May 13, 2016 • 1:45 pm

At least one science writer, Tabitha M. Powledge, has called out her journalistic confréres for their abysmal coverage of MukherjeeGate. In her piece at the PLOS Biology blog, “That Mukherjee piece on epigenetics in The New Yorker“, she has little patience for the “let’s leave out the truth in favor of a cute but dubious story” school of journalism. I like her headers, too:

Mukherjee apologizes, sorta

Brian Resnick’s post at Vox is inclined to cut Mukherjee some slack, partly because the author sent Resnick an apologetic email. Mukherjee told Resnick he had erred in not emphasizing gene regulation–but also noted that the piece is an excerpt from his new book that explores the topic more. (However, see this Why Evolution is True post wherein Matthew Cobb, who just reviewed the book for Nature, asserts that the New Yorker piece is not an excerpt.)

Not having read the book, a history of genetics called simply The Gene, I can’t say whether that’s true. But even if it is, so what? A magazine piece is supposed to stand on its own.

Resnick says, “The print New Yorker only has so much space. These choices aren’t always easy, but in journalism, they’re necessary. We can only tell one story at a time.”

Pfui. Epigenetics is one story. One intricate story. No matter our space constraints–and I’d argue, enviously, that 6000 words doesn’t strike me as terribly constrained; I’ve written on epigenetics in 2000 words and in 700–what we can do is alert readers to the fact that the details we’re emphasizing for space reasons are only part of that story. A couple of paragraphs noting that histone modification is but one chunk of the very complex tale of epigenetics discoveries, and offering a bit of description of some of the other parts, wouldn’t have been a big deal in a 6000-word piece.

And the change wouldn’t have required added wordage. To keep within the generous word count, that new explanatory material could easily replace the too-extensive family history in the piece. Mukherjee’s mother and aunt are identical twins but differ in a lot of ways. It’s an irresistible anecdotal lede for a piece explaining how the same genetic material can generate different outcomes. But the trip to New Jersey and other travelogues were just clutter.

PAUSE FOR BRIEF RANT:  Writing for Story distorts and cripples explanatory prose. The fact that narrative science/medical journalism is fashionable–and at some pubs obligatory–doesn’t make it right. Or informative.

There’s also a section called “What the pissed-off scientists said,”  a pleasingly informal (but accurate) appraisal of the reaction of those who work on gene regulation.

It’s interesting, but not that surprising, that the real science journals, like this one and Nature, have covered the story accurately, while places like Vox and Undark (the organ of the Knight Science Journalism program at MIT!) offer up the same pathetic excuse: “We didn’t have enough space to give an accurate portrayal of science. You don’t understand how hard our job is!” And Forbes, rather than evaluating the criticism, simply gave Mukherjee a free platform (and softball questions) to defend himself. Powledge handily dismembers those lame apologetics.

I haven’t yet seen a retraction or a clarification by the New Yorker. We’re all waiting, Mr. Remnick.

When Nobel Prize winners misbehave

May 13, 2016 • 12:45 pm

by Matthew Cobb

This rather arsey letter was sent by the great chemist Linus Pauling to Francis Crick in 1963. Pauling is correct about the substantive issue – there are three hydrogen bonds between guanine and cytosine, something that Crick had apparently got wrong – but is this the best way of sorting the matter out? Crick’s reply is not recorded.


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Source: National Libraries of Medicine.