I suppose somebody could actually think these things. I doubt that person would be in comp lit, though. I suppose reductionism comes in here somewhere but in spite of having it explained 100000 times, I don’t understand it. I don’t know, I’m just so depressed that Abstruse Goose seems to have fallen down. Oh Abstruse […]
March 30 – April 3, 2015 Cameron manages to build a story about the dove trapped in her house around a Karen Carpenter song, and that IS the first time in the history of humankind that anyone’s done that. Helen pursues her small obsession with museums, this one a bone museum at which she misses […]
I suspect this isn’t really a science metaphor, but I got caught up in the word. I had a friend who’s married to a hospital doctor, and he brought home many work-related words of interest: “mother-of-record,” for instance, meant that he wasn’t going to be the one taking cupcakes to their kid’s class in the […]
The Hubble Fellows are — forgive me — young stars: young PhD astronomers granted the money to go to whatever astronomy-doing place they want to go to and do whatever astronomy they want to do. And once a year, the Hubble Fellows give public talks about what they’re up to, so any astronomy writer with […]
March 2 – 6, 2015 “Maybe I’m wrong, maybe hidden in laboratories and in front of chalkboards around the world there are scores of undiscovered hot, charismatic scientists hiding from the spotlight,” says Erik. “We need these people. Because God knows the pseudoscience nut jobs will take them if we don’t.” Abstruse Goose gets snippy […]
I’ve just been through several bouts of technical assistance and I have to say that 1) the ESL problem still exists but is much better than it used to be; and 2) a new sentence in their checklist is “Why yes, we can fix that;” 3) the last one thanked me for being such a […]
February 23 – 27, 2015 One time my mom did something with the innards of a chicken that made me rethink my bad attitude. The Bad Science Poet reminds us once again: the science isn’t bad but the poetry sure as hell is. Digging out an American camel in the back of a cave, Craig […]
I grew up on a small farm and among other creatures, we raised chickens. Every day they had to be fed and watered and their eggs, warm from their bodies, had to be gathered. When the chickens got old enough to stop laying regularly, we’d turn them into stew: we’d kill them and dress them, […]
