Texas Pastafarian wins right to wear strainer in driver’s license photo

September 4, 2013 • 11:50 am

Catching up on draft posts, most of which will never see the light of day, I found this that I wrote about a week ago.  Fortunately, it’s still highly relevant, for the eternal fight between state secularism and private religion continues.

Reader gravityfly has informed me of a most momentous event with an important bearing on America’s freedom of religion. It’s a huge victory for all of us.

As reported at HuffPo, Texan Eddie Castillo, a devout Patafarian, has won the right to be photographed for his driver’s license. And he’s from Lubbock, a conservative town in a conservative state.

Castillo told KLBK that the triumphant moment came after a lengthy fight with the state’s Department of Public Safety that the unusual headgear was protected as part of his religious beliefs. He worships the Flying Spaghetti Monster, a deity created by an atheist in 2005 in protest of the Kansas School Board’s defense of teaching intelligent design. According to its founding principles, “the only dogma allowed in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is the rejection of dogma.”

Castillo is the first American to successfully have his government-issued photo identification taken while wearing a colander, though DPS officials are reportedly planning to follow up with Castillo in order to “rectify” the situation. Others have tried unsuccessfully, and Castillo told KLBK that he was surprised at his victory, which he called a “political and religious milestone for all atheists everywhere.”

“Especially in Lubbock County where we are kind of looked at as one of the most conservatives cities in the country,” Castillo said. “I’ve heard of the stories happening of the guy getting arrested for attempting to do the same thing that I was doing so when I walked in there I had to mentally prepare myself to probably gather bond or something to get out of jail.”

The part in bold, though, worries me. The photo, as shown at the at the KLTV site is for a “temporary license,” and I suspect the state won’t let him wear the strainer in his photo for a permanent license.

Picture 1

As usual, Europe is ahead of the U.S. in its openness to social deviance:

Pastafarians in Europe have seen more success in their efforts to pay homage to the Flying Spaghetti Monster in official documents. Earlier this month, Czech citizen Lukas Novy was issued an ID showing him wearing colander, after officials ruled that turning down his request would violate the nation’s religious equality laws. Austrian atheist Niko Alm’s license also shows him wearing a strainer, the product of a lengthy legal fight.

I’ve posted before on Novy’s ID, and here’s Niko Alm’s driver’s license:

_54049868_hl_fuehrerschein_110712

We wercynn scopes thrym gefrunon, hu se bard ellen fremede!

September 4, 2013 • 8:24 am

by Greg Mayer

Ireland provided a large share of the great literature in English of the late 19th and 20th centuries– Joyce, Yeats, Beckett, Shaw, Wilde, O’Casey, Synge– a share out of proportion to it’s size. Last week, one of its most recent bright literary lights, Seamus Heaney (1939-2013), died in Dublin at the age of 74.

Seamus Heaney in 1970 (New York Times).

Heaney was born in Northern Ireland, spent much time in the United States (where he was a professor at Harvard), and came to settle in Dublin. He has been called the greatest Irish poet since Yeats, and tributes have rolled in from far and wide, some in verse. Though a Catholic and an Irish nationalist whose work often dealt with “the troubles“, he was criticized by some Republicans for being insufficiently political. He was much too aware of moral ambiguity to toe a party line; he once criticized political poetry as worthy of “the ministry of truth”.

Although I studied many Irish writers as a student, Heaney was too fresh to have made the curriculum at that time. I came to know his work primarily through his much acclaimed verse translation of Beowulf, long a favorite of mine. On the day I heard of his death, I took out my copy and read several passages, including that on the death of Beowulf after a glorious life.  In his translation Heaney included many hibernicisms, derived from both Celtic and older English sources, to help convey his interpretation of the poem.

The title of this post is my tribute to Heaney, a paraphrase in Old English of the first few lines of Beowulf (made with the help of this and this); a fairly literal translation to modern English is

We the human race of the poet’s glory have heard,

How that bard great deeds did!

Less literally, “We have all heard of the poet’s glory, and of his great accomplishments!” Like Heaney, I have included in my version a Celtic word, “bard”, to accompany the Anglo-Saxon “scop”. Readers who know Old English better than me are welcome to comment or improve on mine.

What the fly did with the pair of wings it lost

September 4, 2013 • 8:23 am

by Matthew Cobb

Oh hear and attend, my Best Beloved, and let me tell you the story of how the fly lost a pair of wings. Or rather, what it did with the wings that it lost (here endeth the attempt to channel Kipling again).

Flies are technically grouped in an Order known as Diptera – ‘two wings’. This makes them very different from other insects like bees and dragonflies and butterflies, which have two pairs of wings. The ancestral state in insects is to have two pairs of wings, so insects with one pair of wings, like flies and beetles, have apparently ‘lost’ one pair over the course of evolution.

However, nothing actually disappears in evolution – there is always some vestigial trace, be it genetic or morphological, of a past adaptation that has since been ‘lost’ in a particular lineage. So for example, in beetles, the front pair of wings has turned into the ‘shell’ of the beetle, which protects the flying wings during ground locomotion but which flip up during flying, as shown in this great photo by Steve Weeks of a male stag beetle about to take wing (photo taken from here):

Male Stag Beetle

In flies, it is the front wings that do the flying, while the rear wings have changed their form and function – they have become compressed into slender dumbell-shaped structures known as halteres, as you can see on this photo of a Tipula cranefly in Georgia, by Wayne and taken from here.

What do the halteres do? Well one (rather cruel) way of finding out is to snip them off – relatively easy in a crane fly. The result is that the fly now bumbles about in a completely undirected way. Flies use the haleteres for balance, and to help direct their flight. There is also a suggestion that they provide  information to motor neurons in the fly’s neck that is correlated with visual input, so the fly knows how to respond to visual stimuli appropriately. (This raises the not entirely facetious possibility that haltere-less flies might also suffer from a kind of motion sickness.)

This fantastic hi-def video of a Syrphid (hoverfly) taking off was doing the rounds on Twitter a month or so ago as part of a ‘high-speed arthropod week’ by Sean McCann on ibycter.com.

You can see that the halteres beat in counterpoint to the front wings. Sean notes: ‘the plane in which the halteres move differs by an angle of up to 30 degrees from that of the wings’. It appears that this involves Coriolis force, as suggested in this diagram from this paper, which you may or may not find informative:

jcp08

Reader Dom has noticed another behavioural use of halteres, although it’s not clear exactly what’s going on. In these two videos, flies are wiggling their halteres in a coordinated manner while they are sitting on the ground. This may be a consequence of some internal movement that leads to changes in pressure and therefore their halteres moving, or it may be a more immediate use of the halteres – but for what?

This one shows what appears to be a Sepsidae fly looking pretty chuffed about having found some lovely dung (look at it rubbing its little hands in glee!) while brief flashes from behind its wings show the halteres wobbling about:

This crane fly is sitting on the side of a tent (?) and is wagging its halteres too and fro:

So – what do we make of this? What are they doing with their halteres?

Oh, and the answer to ‘what did insect wings evolve from’ is the usual answer to the best questions – we don’t know. The best bet seems to be from gills (don’t forget all insects came out of the sea). Patterns of gene expression of pdm/nubbin in insect wings are also seen in book gills in other arthropods, but this isn’t proof. Interestingly, the same evidence suggest that those gills turned into spinnerets in another arthropod – the spider.

h/t to Dom for prompting all this, and taking and sending the videos!

Steve Pinker gets Dawkins Award

September 3, 2013 • 10:12 pm
Here’s your post for today (auf Englisch). Perhaps Matthew or Greg will fill the gap.
Alert reader Chris sent me this information:
Just in case you hadn’t heard, Steve Pinker was this years recipient of the Richard Dawkins Award from Atheist Alliance of America. This YouTube video just went up with a lovely tribute from Richard and Steve gives a really nice acceptance speech. He was clearly very moved. The film quality isn’t so great but still well worth watching.
Congrats to Steve on a well-deserved honor!

Reisen

September 3, 2013 • 9:53 pm

Nun bin ich in Deutschland—Flughafen Frankfurt.  Es ist jetzt sehr früh und ich hab’ nichts zu schreiben, weil ich todmüde bin.  In etwa fünf Stunden flieg’ ich nach Warsaw.

Ich wünsche ihnen alles guten Morgen! Vielleicht schreibe ich etwas heute Abend.

Nowhere Man

September 3, 2013 • 12:54 pm

“Nowhere Man,” written by John Lennon, was released in 1965 on the wonderful “Rubber Soul” album.  It’s ranked at #66 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 100 greatest Beatles songs, and it’s one of their first songs to deal with issues besides romance—existential angst in this case.

One of the pivotal songs of Lennon’s early Beatle years arrived when he least expected it. “The whole thing came out in one gulp,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970. “I remember I was just going through this paranoia trying to write something and nothing would come out, so I just lay down and tried not to write and then this came out.” What emerged was an expression of the boredom and frustration Lennon was feeling in his cocoonlike existence as a Beatle. The references to a man who’s “making all his nowhere plans for nobody” and “knows not where he’s going to” were, Lennon admitted, “probably about myself.”

But they forgot the line, “The world is at your command”!

Songwriting mystifies me: it’s a talent that seems to either be there or not, one not amenable to developing.  And I don’t understand how a human can just lie down and disgorge a song this beautiful at one gulp.

Wikipedia adds a bit more:

McCartney said of the song:

“That was John after a night out, with dawn coming up. I think at that point, he was a bit…wondering where he was going, and to be truthful so was I. I was starting to worry about him”.

More from Rolling Stone:

In the studio, the weariness in Lennon’s voice and the dirgelike melody didn’t deter the band from reaching for new sounds. Lennon, McCartney and Harrison stacked a wall of sumptuous harmonies, and the beautifully spare solo — played in unison by Lennon and Harrison on their Sonic Blue Fender Stratocasters — cut through the ennui like a machete.

“‘Nowhere Man’ is such a beautiful pop song with a groundbreaking, existential lyric,” says Billy Corgan, who covered it with the Smashing Pumpkins. “It lets you see that moment of discovery.”

Here’s a live version, said to be recorded in Munich in 1966. It’s surprisingly good for a band that I always thought was much better in the studio than live. The three-part harmony is excellent, although it’s a bit drowned out by the guitars:

I never saw the Beatles live, for, after they became famous, they played mainly in large venues like sports arenas. I wasn’t keen on seeing four antlike figures as a distance, with their music drowned out by the incessant screaming of fans.

Just to remind you of the greatness of “Rubber Soul,” which to me marks a real break between the early rocking Beatles and the later, greater artistic ones, here’s a list of its songs.

The only ones I’m not keen on are “Think for Yourself” and “What Goes On”.

Side one
No. Title Lead vocals Length
1. Drive My Car McCartney and Lennon 2:25
2. Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) Lennon 2:01
3. You Won’t See Me McCartney 3:18
4. Nowhere Man Lennon, McCartney and George Harrison 2:40
5. Think for Yourself” (Harrison) Harrison 2:16
6. The Word Lennon, McCartney and Harrison 2:41
7. Michelle McCartney 2:33
Side two
No. Title Lead vocals Length
1. What Goes On” (Lennon–McCartney–Richard Starkey) Starr 2:47
2. Girl Lennon 2:30
3. I’m Looking Through You McCartney 2:23
4. In My Life Lennon 2:24
5. Wait Lennon and McCartney 2:12
6. If I Needed Someone” (Harrison) Harrison 2:20
7. Run for Your Life Lennon 2:18

D-g saves cat’s life by donating blood

September 3, 2013 • 11:26 am

I know what you’ll say when you see the header: your host is having cognitive dissonance!

Indeed, I was going to start this post by saying that this report from the New York Daily News made me reassess my low opinion of d-gs, but then I realized that the dog didn’t donate blood voluntarily.  Nevertheless, it’s an amazing example of an interspecific blood transfusion that actually worked. Thanks to reader Ronaldo for calling it to my attention.

I’m sure these transfusions have been tried before, but dogs and cats are separated by 55 million years of evolution: nearly ten times the temporal separation between humans and chimps. That’s a big difference between the blood proteins of dogs and the cat’s antibodies that could react negatively to them.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. What happened is this:

Rory, a ginger feline from New Zealand, was in dire need of a blood transfusion after he ate rat poison. However, it was late on a Friday evening and there wasn’t time for the laboratory to receive and match the right type of cat blood.

Tauranga vet Kate Heller told Stuff.co.nz that an ounce of the wrong type of blood would kill Rory, but there was a chance he could survive if given dog blood.

“There are some significant risks of doing what we did,” she said. “He could have died because of it. He would have died without it.”

Rory’s owner, Kim Edwards, enlisted the help of a friend who had a Labrador. Michelle Whitemore’s 18-month-old pup Macy was rushed to the vet so she could donate the necessary blood.

It did the trick, and Macy the dog saved Rory the cat’s life.

Now I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “D-g blood? Why couldn’t they get blood from another cat?” In fact, I asked myself that. But the answer apparently involves blood types, which cats seem to have in a similar way from humans (in the Landsteiner group, for example, I am type O, so I can donate blood to anyone who is O, A, B, or AB, but I am also Rh+, so I can donate only to other Rh+ people. This has to do with the antigens (proteins) on the surface of the blood cell.

I guess cats have a similar antigen-antibody system, so it might be risky to to take blood from a cat when it hasn’t been typed. So why dogs? New Zealand 3 News (where there’s a video) has the answer: cats don’t have pre-existing antibodies for dog blood, though they’d develop them after a single transfusion:

“He was dying. We didn’t have time for the cat blood to arrive or be matched,” says Rory’s owner, Kim Edwards.

It was Friday night and no labs were open to check his blood type, let alone get supplies. So vet Kate Heller sought advice and was told to try dog blood.

“I hadn’t heard about it or read about it. It’s not in any textbook,” says Ms Heller.

Rory needed a donor fast. So Ms Edwards thought fast and phoned a friend in her book club.

“[I had] never heard of anything like that before. I thought she was joking,” says Macy’s owner, Michelle Whitemore.

But Rory desperately needed the 18-month-old Labrador. Macy was rushed to the vet where she donated 120ml of blood, and within an hour Rory the cat was saved.

“It was one of those situations that it was a do-or-die. So, he would have died if we did nothing,” says Ms Heller.

It may sound wacky, but it’s science. Cats don’t have antibodies that reject dogs’ blood, so a transfusion may buy enough time for the cat to regenerate its own red blood cells. But only one transfusion can be done because a second dose of dog blood will be the death of the cat.

“He is not out fetching the newspaper or peeing on power poles or barking yet! He is just the normal cat that we have – playful, friendly,” says Ms Edwards.

LOL!

But I’m not so mean-spirited that I can’t at least give a tip of the hat to Macy the d-g.

If you know of other interspecific blood transfusions that worked, do weigh in below.

blood25n-1-web-1
Macy and Rory

Diana Nyad completes her journey

September 3, 2013 • 10:38 am

Thank Ceiling Cat that there weren’t any jellyfish this time. Here’s a video of Diana Nyad finishing her 100+ mile swim from Cuba to Florida.

Note that, as she walks her shore, her team forms a ring around her to prevent well-wishers from helping her ashore.  The rules for the swim required that she walk ashore completely unassisted.

“You are never too old to chase your dreams,” she said. Indeed—so long as your dreams are achievable at an advanced age. Remarkably, in her case they were.

*