Please Tell Me You Don't Teach Math

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Absurdly Implausible Excess in the NY Times discusses “Nuking the Fridge,” the expression spawned from some inanity in the latest Indiana Jones flick.

Jason Nicholl, a 37-year-old high school teacher who runs one of the sites, said he went to a message board shortly after the new “Indiana Jones” film was released and saw that the phrase had already caught on. He thought it was likely to be more than a passing fad.

“‘Jump the shark’ is for people over the age of 60, who remember the show,” he said, adding that “nuke the fridge” was a “new, fresh take.”

Wait, what? I remember the show, and have a ways to go before I hit 60. Happy Days ran from 1974-1984 and it literally and figuratively jumped the shark in 1977. You don’t remember the show if you were born after 1948? Nobody who was under the age of 26 when it first aired remembers the show?

Vay Kay

Taking a week off, and I don’t expect to be blogging much, if at all. I have a couple of posts in the queue, though, so if I have internet access they’ll appear.

The Importance of Being Earnestly Stupid

The importance of stupidity in scientific research

I recently saw an old friend for the first time in many years. We
had been Ph.D. students at the same time, both studying science,
although in different areas. She later dropped out of graduate school,
went to Harvard Law School and is now a senior lawyer for a major
environmental organization. At some point, the conversation turned
to why she had left graduate school. To my utter astonishment, she
said it was because it made her feel stupid. After a couple of years
of feeling stupid every day, she was ready to do something else.
I had thought of her as one of the brightest people I knew and
her subsequent career supports that view. What she said bothered
me. I kept thinking about it; sometime the next day, it hit me. Science
makes me feel stupid too. It’s just that I’ve gotten used to it. So
used to it, in fact, that I actively seek out new opportunities to feel
stupid. I wouldn’t know what to do without that feeling. I even
think it’s supposed to be this way.

My immediate reaction was that, technically, ignorance and stupidity were being mixed here — experience and intelligence aren’t the same thing, but it’s not always apparent which is which. But I understand the sentiment — as soon as you figure something out, you move on to something new that you don’t know. Isn’t that one of the draws of doing science? Of learning, in general? I like getting my “fix” of somethingnew, whether it’s a solved problem or some new topic. One of the usual side effects of studying science is an awareness of all that there is that we do not know. If that make you feel stupid, well, so be it. It’s also a side effect of working with a lot of smart people, but that’s also a great way of getting that “fix” I like.

Other commentary at Science to Life, Blog Around the Clock, FemaleScienceProfessor, Counter Minds, and probably elsewhere, as I imagine this is making the rounds.

Good Talk, Bad Talk

Thoughts on Conferences at Faraday’s Cage is where you put Schroedinger’s Cat

The second case was a conference where the only requirement for approval was an abstract. I realize that some of the more “cutting edge” conferences proceed this way so that people can present their latest results. I don’t like them, however, because many people seem to have worked up to the last minute on the project and not seem to have give much thought to the actual talk.

There’s another option? I thought all data for talks were obtained in the last few days before the conference.

This was brought on by a list of things not to do while speaking in public (which, if a strict grammarian I know had her way, would include “Not starting a sentence with the word ‘hopefully.'”

The Truth Stings a Little

Charlie Brooker’s screen burn
Science is like a good friend: sometimes it tells you things you don’t want to hear

The wariness [of scientists] stems from three popular misconceptions:

1) Scientists want to fill our world with chemicals and killer robots; 2) They don’t appreciate the raw beauty of nature, maaan; and

3) They’re always spoiling our fun, pointing out homeopathy doesn’t work or ghosts don’t exist EVEN THOUGH they KNOW we REALLY, REALLY want to believe in them.

And don’t forget, they say they’re working for us, but what they really want to do is rule the world!”

Hop Three Times and Twirl Before Typing This

If you believe you’re playing well because you’re getting laid, or because you’re not getting laid, or because you wear women’s underwear, then you ARE! Crash Davis

The Quirkbook

“Making a list of superstitions / foolish consistencies / lightweight OCD behaviors e.g. I always put my RIGHT shoe on first. You?”
[…]
“In what order shall I put my gear on? What is practical? What feels right? You know, I like putting my right skate on first. I can’t tell you why, but the order feels important. Right skate, then left.”

We killed them. 9-3. Sure, they started by playing half their game because they were already in the playoffs, but after I scored that hat trick in the first period, they woke up. We slapped them around for another two periods. It was glorious.

I credit the skates. No, I credit the skate application process.

It’s that story that goes through my head each morning as I stare down. I remember deciding to care about how I put things on my feet. It’s a silly superstitious quirk transformed into an unavoidable daily routine and that’s why I twittered it. I wanted to know who else was saddled with these foolish consistencies.

There seems to be a strong tie between superstition “ritual” and sports.

I have a mild OCD about the iron. I almost always double-check that it’s off and unplugged before going out, because it’s one of those mindless “routine” things that you’ll falsely remember doing. Even if you didn’t do it today, you might paste in the memory of any of the other hundreds of times you’ve done it. (And by “you” I mean “I”)

I don’t think things like “wiring the + wire to the + lead and — to —” or “don’t lick the high-voltage connection” count as superstition.

I’ve known women who had to sleep on a particular side of the bed, so any impulse I might have had for this OCD has vanished — it’s not a battle worth fighting. (You’re in bed with her. Wrong time and place to pick a fight.)