Impetuous Translations

The real definition of "panic"

Events are swirling (not entirely downward I should say gratefully) in my life thanks to a little thing called my PhD upgrade. As a consequence of these events, postings at IT have been a little thin. This chaos all ends next Tuesday, however, and life and my blog hopefully resumes back to normal after a presentation to my Department and a two hour defense to two experts on the merits, or lack thereof, of my work. It's crunch time, pass or fail, do or die.

Speaking of crunch time, I was quickly catching up on Nate Silver's blog FiveThirtyEight.com at 4 AM about discretionary spending in the U.S. and the recession, which is brilliantly written. If there was ever a real cause for panic, I take away from his post that it shouldn't be silly things like PhD exams but rather things like this. What is the world coming too, I wonder?

The end of an era

Slate.com posted a pointed article yesterday describing the most recent, biggest, and perhaps definitively final federal court decision that concludes that autism and vaccines are not linked. To believe they are linked, Special Master Denise Vowell wrote is "to emulate Lewis Carroll's White Queen and be able to believe six impossible (or at least highly improbable) things before breakfast."

The end of this particular debate also got me thinking about the potential for junk science to be on the decline in other ways too, particularly in light of the end of the Bush era. Along those lines, here are a list of my top 5 Bush scientific "truths" that we, the public, should no longer be forced to swallow before actually getting to eat our breakfast:

1. the non-existence of global warming caused by humans
2. the availability of sufficient stem cell lines for research purposes
3. the irrefutable effectiveness of abstinence-only programs
4. the inability of condoms to prevent transmission of HIV
5. the purposelessness of wetlands in maintaining an ambient environment

I don't know about you but I'm feeling less nauseous already.

Caveat emptor

Welcome to my X-rated world. Overheard Saturday night in Harare at the Wild Date Bar in the Bronte (i.e., my) Hotel:

Prostitute: Why you call me on this cell? Why you looking for your money back after the fact?

Client: Explicatives, loud yelling over the speakerphone

Prostitute: A C-note is expensive but that's my job. That's what I do for money honey.  It’s not my fault your d*** wouldn't stand. You said show me the front, I showed you the front. You said show me the back, I showed you the back.  And nothing, maybe 40% top. What's a professional girl like me supposed to do with that?

Client: Explicatives, loud yelling.

Prostitute:  Hanging up now, dear. Love to hear from you again when you have more money. 

On the upshot, pockets of the Zim economy seem to still be functioning at the Bronte Hotel...  at least some parts better than others, anyways.