Illumination 2.0

Accidentally a Vegetarian In March of 1994 I stood on the scale and it read 235 lbs.  I looked in the mirror after a shower and the Michellin Man was starring back at me. I was a grad student, worked 16 hour days, didn't eat right, no exercise, and lots of beer. Genetics were not on my side either, as everyone else in my family had weight problems and the issues that went with them. It was time for a change. I lumbered across the parking lot of my apartment complex in a slow jog that was physically taxing. I probably squeezed out 400 yards total, but I'll never forget that feeling.  Things had to change, and that first foray across the blacktop was a turning point. The fact is that GMO technology could make plant products that fill gaps in the vegetarian/vegan diet, making it more attractive to those interested in the healthful benefits of a plant-based diet that are uncomfortable potential deficiencies.  One of the other shifts was to an entirely plant-based die

It was Sunday night and I nestled into position.  The television flickered in a darkened room and the swelling music of the Cosmos remake primed me for another trip with Neil deGrasse Tyson flying in his hybrid toe nail clipper / kazoo. The story was about Dr. Clair Patterson, the University of Chicago (later California Institute of Tech) scientist that sought to identify the age of the earth by measuring lead levels in a meteorite fragment.  Lead is the end product of radioactive uranium decay, so if you can detect and quantify lead in a sample from the beginning of the universe, you can estimate the age of the universe.  The problem was that his readings were crazy because there was lead everywhere . Why? Turns out, all of the experimental noise he was detecting came from residues of leaded gasoline. Exhaust and lead dust was prevalent everywhere before the preparation was banned in the 1970's.  The story tells of Robert Kehoe, a scientist from the auto industry

As a scientist, I cannot understand how anyone can think GMO labeling makes sense.  To be fair, I have identified a standard for when I'll accept GMO labeling.  I'll fully support labeling when someone can answer the question at the end of this blog entry. This is sucrose, table sugar.  From a conventional sugar beet. This sucrose from an organically grown sugar beet. This is sucrose from a glyphosate-resistant sugar beet. You are at the store buying table sugar.  What is the difference? Why are you afraid of the last one?

I have to admit, I've always been oddly intrigued with Jenny McCarthy.  She was very attractive yet an idiot, hot but raw, a booger-eating, cross-eyed, glamour model.  It was that curious mix of unsophisticated trash meets easy on the eyes... She was from the South Side of Chicago and about my age, so it was no surprise that I made extra money in grad school tutoring her younger sister, an athlete at the place I found my Ph.D.  It only heightened my intrigue. I was getting genetically closer, an odd kind of inadvertent stalking. Time would tell that she was a semi-talented writer and actress. More time would tell that she was an adamant anti-scientist, arguing against vaccination for children and eventually honing her argument the vaccine schedule. Her claims of toxic compounds in vaccines and their direct implications in autism didn't match the science, but her appeal to the mommy factor made her a household name.  She gained credibility in medical advice that eclipsed tha

You know that sinking feeling you have when you go to a friend's wedding and you and someone else there are wearing the same dress and shoes?  I don't, but friends of mine say it is pretty awful.  When there's an effort for clever forethought and pizzazz, it is heartbreaking to realize is is unoriginal. My heart sank like a Malaysian jetliner the other day, on Norman Borlaug's birthday.  I was reading about him and reading his most inspiring quotations.   " Don’t tell me what can’t be done. Tell me what needs to be done – and let me do it." Certainly inspirational, and defining well the attitude of a midwestern farmer, scientist and humanitarian.    With all respect, I apologize to Dr. B for inadvertently stealing his concept...  But I can explain!  Now imagine the pukey sensation in the guts of a scientist that claims Borlaug as a hero, who has on his own signature line his (?) quotation, "Don't tell me it can't be done, tell m

There's a special place in hell for Fred Phelps, and a few extra slots for the loons that surround him.  At least that's what I always said.  For some reason I've always read about the exploits of Westboro Baptist Church  (www.godhatesfags.com), provoking my own visceral reactions about such misplaced emotion and energy that could be used for more churchy activities. The congregation is best known for its extreme views on homosexuality, other religions, and the picketing of major tragedies.  Whether it was the death of a soldier or a tornado through Joplin, Missouri, Phelps and clan showed up to note how the deaths were the acts of God and a message to those on earth.  They financed their events through funds gathered from lawsuits, and are quick to note when their civil rights were violated, successfully suing municipalities .   When someone is as bad as Phelps, should we celebrate his demise, or is it time to show love and tolerance-- qualities they don't kn