Passing thoughts
Yesterday Dr. Isis put up a post that seems to have bugged many of the people who subsequently posted comments on it.
I have no idea whether the commenters on the post intended to convey it, but here's what's coming across to me as a reader of the exchange:
Dr. Isis notes something that makes her (as a self-identified brown person) feel uncomfortable.
A whole bunch of self-identified white people turn up to say, "The reverse situation has happened to me, and it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. Stop being so sensitive."
Or, "It would take too many words to accomplish the same…
Dr. Free-Ride's better half went to the Free-Ride offspring's school for Back to School Night earlier this week. (I stayed at home with the sprogs to oversee dinner and baths.)
Dr. Free-Ride's better half reported back that the younger Free-Ride offspring's third grade teacher "doesn't believe in too much homework". ("She doesn't believe it's possible to assign too much homework?" I asked cautiously. "No, she doesn't believe an excess of homework is a good thing," my better half replied.)
And, she supported her stance with a page she distributed to parents summarizing recent educational…
First off, I moderate all my comments. Mostly it's to eliminate comment spam, but it also means the rare death threat is not going to post without me approving it.
Second of all, why would you think you have the evidential basis to discern the religious convictions (or lack thereof) of either this blogger or her offspring? Even if you did, why would that be germane to a discussion of a classroom snake? And why, in any case, would it make you feel justified in asserting "you have forfeit your life"?
Obviously, you feel like you have an important message to convey to someone. I would like…
Like a good nerd, I love me some Star Trek. I will confess to having a strong preference for the original series (TOS), on account of that was what my parents watched with us when we were wee young nerds growing up. (My dad had a freakish ability to tell within the first few words of Kirk's "captain's log" at the opening which episode it was going to be.)
Something I didn't realize until I was a mature nerd was just how regularly, in TOS, Kirk and/or the rest of the crew of the Starship Enterprise violated the Prime Directive, which, as Wikipedia tells it:
dictates that there can be no…
(From here.)
Not that we won't make plenty of other mistakes, but they'll run more to Nietzsche than Rand.
Come to think of it, the eternal recurrence test is probably just right for bedtime stories, isn't it?
To whom it may concern,
I can deal with the third story classrooms, really I can. Running up and down stairs to get to and from class helps give me the exercise I wouldn't get otherwise because I'm grading papers instead of hitting the gym.
And, I can live with the back-to-back class meetings in third story classrooms located in different buildings across campus from each other. That's just more physical exercise, plus a chance to live by my resolution not to view other people primarily as obstacles. I appreciate the opportunity for personal growth.
I even understand the wisdom of filling…
I guess I suspected that this might be a problem, but it really sank in when a close colleague told me the other day that he was freaked out by it. And I'd hate to have you hear it from anyone else but me.
I'm a decaf drinker.
Yeah, I know. Nowadays you can't count on a philosopher to smoke like a chimney, or to be drunk off her ass at work, or even to wear a beret.
But just as we can count on gravity to keep pulling matter toward the center of the earth, you'd think you could count on a philosopher to be hopped up on caffeine, preferably delivered via strong coffee in a café where…
Because we're all in the same exploding monkey factory together.
So far, no paper jams of consequence to report at the department photocopier, but the toner ran out at 11:58 AM Pacific Time. We are hopeful that the student assistant who comes on duty at 1:00 PM will be able to change the toner swiftly while whispering soothing words to the photocopier.
(Faculty are not allowed to change the toner, because as a group we have demonstrated little competence at this messy task. Also, the crying makes onlookers uncomfortable.)
Today's policy ponderable:
We have as a goal helping students to…
In my inbox today:
I'm curious, what credentials (academic or otherwise) does one need to become a philosopher?
For the purposes of employment in a university philosophy department, a graduate degree in philosophy (usually a Ph.D. but sometimes an M.A.) is standard. Kind of like a chemist can be expected to have a degree in chemistry, or a biologist to have a degree in biology.
If you're an off-the-books philosopher, I imagine this requirement might be relaxed.
Now, whether there are good reasons to accept the degree-linked-credentialist status quo (for philosophy or any other academic…
My guess is that the first faculty meeting after one's sabbatical year is never an easy one, but when that faculty meeting happens during a state budget implosion the likes of which no one can recall, it's kind of like parachuting into an exploding monkey factory.
The high point:
We got to discussing the potential long-term (post-furlough and other stop-gap measures) impacts of drastically reduced state funding on our teaching loads. One possibility raised was that faculty might each have to take on another course each semester, with no possibility for "reassigned time" (which releases one…
It was decided that the Free-Ride offspring are maybe, kind of, old enough to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark without having nightmares. Even though they haven't seen it before, they seem to have picked up at least some general information about Indiana Jones as one of the canonical figures in American pop culture.
Dr. Free-Ride: So, what do you know about Indiana Jones?
Younger offspring: He's a hero.
Dr. Free-Ride: Actually, he's an archaeology professor at a university.
Younger offspring: No he's not!
Dr. Free-Ride: Yes he is! He's a professor just like me! Maybe I'm a hero, too.
Younger…
Ethan Siegel at Starts with a Bang shares some thoughts about productive argumentation and a graphic to illustrate various approaches:
I find myself fascinated with the graphic itself. In particular, I'm pondering what rhetorical work the pyramid does here.
If the point is that the lower strata on the pyramid are less effective ways to engage with someone else's arguments, then I'd think that you could use a ladder here just as easily as a pyramid. Maybe you can. Maybe the person who made the graphic just likes pyramids, or doesn't care for ladders.
But, if the pyramid is meant to…
At bedtime, after the reading of the stories, the younger Free-Ride offspring lay upon Dr. Free-Ride's better half, and Dr. Free-Ride's better half responded by making strangling noises. Of course, I called in from the other room to remind the children that homicide, whether intentional or accidental, is forbidden in the house.
Younger offspring: I'm not killing him! He's pretending!
Dr. Free-Ride's better half: Actually, I'm pretending to be alive.
Elder offspring: Pretending means you are alive. If you weren't alive, you wouldn't be able to pretend anything.
Dr. Free-Ride: Well played,…
Ed Yong and DrugMonkey have dusted off the invitation (seen here last summer) for readers to take a moment to introduce themselves in the comments.
It seems like a good idea to me, so I'm going to play along:
Who are you? (Scientist, philosopher, other? Student, parent, working stiff, blissful retiree? Given that personal identity is a matter of deep philosophical import, I'm going to let you decide the right way to deal with this question.)
Have we met in real life? Before or after you first read the blog? (Are you now regretful of our real-life meeting?)
What brings you to this blog?…
Somehow, without actually planning it, I ended up taking a ten-day (give or take) hiatus from the internets, during which I immersed myself in the three-dimensional world. During my time offline, I learned many things, among them:
Two weeks in a row of overnight flights east, coupled with relatively little sleep, will knock me on my butt for a while -- even when I'm back in my own time zone and on my own schedule.
Sleeping well in a dorm room is not terribly hard in the aftermath of an overnight flight east and relatively little sleep. However, desire to avoid a line for a shower tends to…
Since the cool kids seem to be doing cyborg names today:
Get Your Cyborg Name
I'm actually a little frightened with how well my cyborg name comports with my intentions in blogging.
After the open house at the college radio station, I paid a visit to a now-defunct cafe that used to be downstairs from the radio station studio and found the following calculation written on the wall:
I'm a little uncertain about the first premise (that girlfriends are the product of time and money). But if that premise holds true, it's hard to deny the conclusion that girlfriends are evil.
You've been warned.
You may recall a couple years ago when the Order of the Science Scouts of Exemplary Repute and Above Average Physique started issuing badges.
Now, the Science Scouts have a spiffy new webpage and many new badges ... and there are rumors (or should I say rumours) that actual, physical badges, suited for stitching onto sashes or lab coats, will be available.
So it seems like a good time to review the badges I have earned thus far as a Science Scout.
The "talking science" badge:
I don't need to explain this one, right?
Even before I had a blog about matters scientific, I talked science. At…
After a good long while hanging out and sucking wifi from MIT, I decided it was time to walk along Mass Ave to Harvard Square. The walk seemed significantly shorter than when I was a college student twenty (plus) years ago.
Possible explanations:
1. When I was a college student, I was working with tighter time constraints. (Maybe, but not always.)
2. At least a few of the instances in which I was making that walk (though in the opposite direction) were very late at night (like after 2 AM); maybe fatigue made the walk seem longer.
3. At least a few of the instances in which I was making that…
The torrential rain stopped (at least temporarily), so I got a chance to walk around a little. Having met my high school friend in Kenmore Square, I walked on Comm Ave (toward the Boston Commons) and hung a left on Mass Ave.
I decided I needed to check the functioning of the Harvard Bridge.
See, when I was a college student, the distinguishing feature of the Harvard Bridge was not that it provided a convenient way to get across the Charles River between MIT and the Back Bay. Rather, it was that the weather walking across the bridge was always significantly worse than the weather on either…