The Australian Election

September 7, 2013 • 4:48 am

Reader Keira McKenzie (owner of Plushie) from Oz sent an email and photo about the new election, which apparently has booted out Labour and voted in the government of Tony Abbott:

As you know, Australia had an election today.  It looks like the climate-change-denying, staying with 20th century internet (yes, I said *20th century*), foreign aid denying, criminalizing refugees party—the Liberals (the equivalent of your Republicans in that they’re conservatives) have got into power through a load of lies on the economy.
We are in for a rough ride and the country for a rough millennium or so because all work on attempts to mitigate & prepare for climate change will be abandoned.

I knew before the vote was in because Ceiling cat told me so, appearing above my own MtLawleyShire in Western Australia at sunset.

As the BBC notes:

Mr Abbott has also promised to repeal the government’s unpopular carbon tax – a policy which has marked Australia out as a world leader on climate change legislation in the past three years.

Ceiling Cat and his eponymous Earthly minion, Professor C.C., indeed disapprove of the election’s results, and Ceiling Cat has turned black to protest the increased emissions. Keira’s photograph:

the dark side of Ceiling Cat_election day sunset

Caturday felids: Teaching your cat about Jesus, and a video about British moggies

September 7, 2013 • 12:32 am
First, a hilarious piece from The OnionAre Your Cats Old Enough To Learn About Jesus?  It’s time to tell your felid the Good News, so that he can cross the Rainbow Bridge and be on the right paw of Ceiling Cat. One excerpt:

Kittens’ hearts, at birth, are filled with what theologians call “original mischief.” Mischief, if left to grow on its own, can sprout into evil. That’s why you must fill their hearts with Jesus instead. If you wait, your cats might find seductive role models among the back-alley strays and rough felines from the wrong side of town. You could also end up with an unwanted pregnancy.

That’s why it’s so very, very important to tell your cats about the life, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus as early as possible. The Nicene Creed is a good place to start: Recite it to them when they are about 10 weeks old.

Remember: If you give a cat a fish, it eats for a day. If you teach a cat to fish, it eats for a lifetime. Perhaps that’s not such a good proverb to use in this case, since fishing is actually instinctual in cats. But Jesus is not. Your kitties need to know early on that there is a fisher of men and cats alike who can save their souls.

. . . And don’t get your cats vaccinated, either. The Lord will provide protection from feline leukemia.

If you have a spare hour this lazy Saturday, you might watch this lovely BBC Horizon documentary, “The secret life of the cat,” brought to my attention by alert reader Jesper. Here are the BBC notes:

First broadcast: 13 June 2013.

Horizon discovers what your cat really gets up to when it leaves the cat flap.
In a groundbreaking experiment, 50 cats from a village in Surrey are tagged with GPS collars and their every movement is recorded, day and night, as they hunt in our backyards and patrol the garden fences and hedgerows. Cats are fitted with specially developed cat-cams which reveal their unique view of our world. You may think you understand your pet, but their secret life is more surprising than we thought.

Warning: Matthew thinks this is too long and has only about 15 minutes of solid information.

Hili dialogue: Saturday

September 7, 2013 • 12:11 am

This is a special feature unconnected with the regular Caturday Felid post. Once again I am honored to converse with the Royal Cat:

Hili: May we discuss New Atheism over my lunch?
Jerry: What would you like to know?
Hili: What’s new?
Hili
In Polish:

Hili: Czy możemy podczas mojego lunchu podyskutować o tym nowym ateizmie?
Jerry: A czego chciałabyś się dowiedzieć?
Hili: Co nowego.

Another canard dispelled: is science a faith?

September 6, 2013 • 9:37 am

By now we should all know how to respond to this bit of criticism, which is leveled by believers and accommodationists at science as a way to drag it down to the level of religion. Faith is simply belief without good evidence, with no evidence, or in the face of evidence. Believers will deny that characterization, or try to redefine “faith” in more sophisticated words, but I always refer them to the Bible itself (Hebrews 11:1):

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Yet even smart people try to insist that science, like religion, is based on faith. One of them is  Christine Ma-Kellams, a social psychologist at Harvard, who, with Jim Blascovich, a professor of social psychology at the University of California Santa Barbara , did a study purporting to show that exposure to science made people more moral.

I recently criticized that study as being rather weak, suggesting that we need longer-term analyses on the effects of studying science on morality.  However, given that Ma-Kellams and Blascovich were touting the positive effects of science, I was surprised that the first author, in a HuffPo piece, leveled the old “science is a faith” canard:

“In many ways, science seems like a 21st Century religion,” Ma-Kellams told HuffPost Science. “It’s a belief system that many wholeheartedly defend and evolve their lives around, sometimes as much as the devoutest of religious folk. And although many have studied the link between religion and morality, few had tried empirically at least to test whether science also had moral repercussions.”

. . . “Many like to think of science as a neutral, purely objective force,” she said. “But in reality, the things what we study and investigate and think about influence our very conceptions of right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable, without us necessarily realizing it.”

Well, she’s not even right about the claim that scientific investigations are always being informed by our conceptions of right and wrong. I’m hard pressed, for instance, to see how morality has in any way influenced my work on speciation in fruit flies.  And certainly science is not a “belief system” in the way that Ma-Kellams proclaims. Let’s call it a “confidence system” instead.

Fortunately, as reader Gregory pointed out, Jeff Schweitzer, in another HuffPo piece called “Science is not religion,” has done the heavy lifting for me. (Schweitzer is a marine biologist and bioethicist who worked in the Office of Science and Technology Policy during the Clinton administration.)

Here’s an excerpt from Schweitzer’s piece, but there’s much more:

Science is not a “belief system” but a process and methodology for seeking an objective reality. Of course because scientific exploration is a human endeavor it comes with all the flaws of humanity: ego, short-sightedness, corruption and greed. But unlike a “belief system” such as religion untethered to an objective truth, science is over time self-policing; competing scientists have a strong incentive to corroborate and build on the findings of others; but equally, to prove other scientists wrong by means that can be duplicated by others. Nobody is doing experiments to demonstrate how Noah could live to 600 years old, because those who believe that story are not confined to reproducible evidence to support their belief. But experiments were done to show the earth orbits the sun, not the other way around.

Here is the fundamental and irreconcilable conflict between the two: science searches for mechanisms and the answer to “how” the universe functions, with no appeal to higher purpose, without assuming the existence of such purpose. Religion seeks meaning and the answer to “why” the world is as we know it, based on the unquestioned assumption that such meaning and purpose exist. The two worldviews could not more incompatible.

Unlike scientific claims, beliefs cannot be arbitrated to determine which is valid because there is no objective basis on which to compare one set of beliefs to another. Those two world views are not closer than we think; they are as far apart as could possibly be imagined.

Religion and science are incompatible at every level. The two seek different answers to separate questions using fundamentally and inherently incompatible methods. Nothing can truly bring the two together without sacrificing intellectual honesty.

It’s refreshing to read that sentence: “Religion and science are incompatible at every level,” which is of course true but makes accommodationists put their fingers in their ears and say “nyah nyah nyah nyah!”  And one other difference between science and religion is that science gets the answers and religion does not. The difference rests on something Schweitzer also points out:  when you arrive at an “answer” to a religious question, there’s no way of knowing whether you’re right or wrong.  Science has such ways, and if it didn’t we wouldn’t ever learn anything.

Schweitzer’s article is forthright, strong, and excellent: bookmark it or print it out the next time you hear a mealy-mouthed faitheist, accommodationist, or believer utter the moronic words “Science is a faith, too!” It will save you a lot of arguing.

Poland, part deux

September 6, 2013 • 4:40 am

Yesterday we visited the village of Dobrzyn for some shopping and a bit of sightseeing. It’s a very small and typical Polish town, population ca. 2000.  Nevertheless, there are several things of historical interest.

This is, for example, where (Germanic) Prussia began, as a group of knights organized to defend against another group (confusingly, also called “Prussians”) invading from what is now Lithuania.  Prussia began as the Order of Dobrzyn in the 13th century. All that remains is a mound where the old fort used to be, overlooking the Vistula. A few crosses also mark the spot.

Prussia

Dobrzyn was also a shtetl—a town that had a substantial Jewish population.  And there are still a few remnants, which, as a cultural Jew with Eastern European genes, I found fascinating.  Jews in 19th century Poland weren’t allowed to own land, and were segregated in their own part of town.  Unable to farm, they became traders, merchants, and craftsmen.  They were also more literate than the surrounding, non-Jewish population, with the lingua fraca being Yiddish. Because of their mercantile connection with Germany, the second language of the shtetl Jews was not Polish but German.

Several old Jewish houses remain; they are very distinctive and I’m told they are about a hundred years old .

Jewish House 1

Jewish House 3

Beyond their segregation in shtetls, the Jews had a horrible history in Poland. There was, of course, the mass slaughter of the Holocaust.  Before World War II, Poland had the largest Jewish community in Europe: over three million.  After the war, fewer than 300,000 were left, so that at least 90% of them were exterminated. (Many of the survivors were hidden, pretended they weren’t Jews, or migrated to Russia.)

Because Poles continued to kill Jews for several years after the war (including those who returned to reclaim their property), almost all the remaining Jews eventually left, many going to Israel. Today the Jewish population of Poland is miniscule: about 20,000—roughly 0.7% of the prewar numbers.

Jewish house 2

In Dobrzyn we visited the butcher shop, which had a lovely selection of homemade Polish sausages.

Butcher

I was there, however, to buy a bone for Emma the d*g, the first d*g food of any sort I’ve ever bought. They were fresh out of bones, so I purchased a pig foot, which the d*g ate with relish (meaning avidity, not the condiment!) Sadly, the photo of me giving the pig foot to Emma, didn’t come out, but it may have been to much of a shock to the readers, anyway!

Pig foot

The human comestibles last night consisted of a large spinach and cheese pie (made with five kinds of cheese), topped with dried tomatoes and cranberries, with salad on the side.

Dinner

Dessert: Polish poppy-seed cake (makowiec), one of my favorites:

Poppy seed cake

After dinner, of course, one must have a postprandial cuddle with the cat. Hili is insistent on her fusses:

Malgorzata and Hili

This is the other cat who lives here, Fitness. As with all black cats, his fur is actually very dark brown, which is evident in the sunlight:

Fitness

This morning Andrzej and I walked down to the Vistula with a visiting abdominal surgeon, Wojchiech Szczesny (the pronunciation of his name is impossible for non-Poles, even if you hear it), who has his own website and crusades against quackery and homeopathic medicine in Poland.

We were accompanied on our walk by both Emma the d*g and Hili the cat, who trotted along in front, behind, and beside, always aware of where we were but pretending to be on her own.

Hili and walk

Stunning footage of bee mating flight

September 6, 2013 • 4:34 am

by Matthew Cobb

Bees – like wasps and most ants – mate on the wing. In a new documentary called More Than Honey, director Markus Imhoof used remote-controlled helicopters and high-speed cameras to show mating. I have never seen anything like it. Notice what the male (= drone) looks like – huge great big eyes. And also, once mating is over, that’s his job done and he dies. Male bees (like male wasps and ants) are just flying sperm.

The documentary takes a rather catastrophic view of the threat to bees, and the current exploitation of them by agribusiness. Here’s the trailer – you decide:

Moar flies – with added wasp

September 6, 2013 • 4:19 am

by Matthew Cobb

Reader Michael Durham sent us these pictures of what we all think are Drosophila melanogaster flying over some blueberries in Oregon.

This first picture has one fly slurping up a lovely droplet of something, while another comes hovering in to land. All these are females:

flying Drosophila

You can just spy the halteres underneath the wing of the fly in the middle. This next photo shows a female that has just taken off (don’t forget – these are blueberries, not plums – that fly is VERY small!):

flying Drosophila

And here’s a fly that has been at the electric kool-aid. Scientists use coloured food to test for feeding preferences in the lab – you can tell which food they flies have been eating by the stain it leaves in their body. Seems like something similar has been happening here:

flying Drosophila

It’s not all fun being a fly, as this photo from Scotland by Scot Mathieson (aka @scot_nature_boy) shows:

wasp

Scot writes:

Thursday 5 September 2013: When predator feasts on predator

Visiting my mum in East Lothian today, I took the dog into her garden and was amazed to observe a wasp pounce onto a hoverfly on an Escholzia flower, disabling it by biting it behind its head. Given the aerial skills of your average hoverfly, this is no mean feat. The wasp, however, struck while the hoverfly was feeding on the flower rather than in flight. It then carried its prey off to a wooden post to immobilised it further before flying away with it. This was the best picture I could take showing both insects.

For those of you who are thinking ‘wait a minute, those hoverflies are lovely peaceful things that just drink nectar’, think again. Hoverfly maggots are vicious predators…

Scot was surprised that the wasp was getting animal protein so late in the season, given that the grubs should all have grown up by now. There are several explanations – the late spring in the UK may have delayed growth that little bit, or maybe this is an example of the plague of drunken wasps that is supposedly haunting the UK (haven’t seen any signs of it myself – fewer wasps around than in a normal year), or it could be an example of the old fable of the scorpion and the frog:

The Scorpion and the Frog

A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asks, “How do I know you won’t sting me?” The scorpion says, “Because if I do, I will die too.”

The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog.

The frog feels the onset of paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp “Why?”

Replies the scorpion: “Its my nature…”