Woke up a little late this morning, Sunday, lazy day around here, the only chores are bath for the boy and dishes. But there is something a little different today. I woke up with a song stuck in my head, don't know why it happens, it's a song I haven't heard in months, and not a particular favorite, Maxwell's Silver Hammer by the Beatles.
I keep running it over and over.. "Bang, Bang, Maxwells Silver Hammer came down upon her head, Bang Bang Maxwells Silver hammer came down and she was dead." That verse and the "Jane was quizzical studied pataphysical science in the home, late nights all alone with the test tube Oh, oh, oh, oh." Is it an attack on my Brain, coordinated by the Bladder Fairy, The Hunger Gnome and their friend The Temporary Madness Imp? Why is it this song, why couldn't it have been Pachelbel's Canon in D minor or even Walk like an egyptian by the Bangles, (Ok I guess I should be thankful it's not the Spongebob Squarepants theme song or the Macarena which would have me humming "Hmnn Hmmnn Hmnn Hmmnn Hmnn Hmnn Macarena" because I don't speak spanish.) did the tune lie dormant in my head and suddenly spring to life due to a misfired synapse or an erratic brain chemical. I will research this and see if anybody knows. Thats about it, ciao for now.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Yes but what does CAW!!! mean..
Came across an article about crows, it seems field biologists have been doing studies on crows.. when they would catch them and band them for further study biologists have noted that the birds would react to the same people coming back to observe them.
One of the biologists John Marzluff from the University of Washington in Seattle got the bright idea of wearing masks to tag the birds just to check and see if the birds really were remembering who it was that tagged them. And sure enough the birds would react negatively to whoever was wearing the mask if the mask was worn to tag the birds.
They did not however respond strongly to the Dick Cheney mask being worn by researchers which shows that they don't read newspapers. What is really surprising is that up to three years later the birds would still respond to the mask even if they had not seen it in a long while. They would scold whoever was wearing the mask as they approached. You can see the article here. So next time you are outside and crows are around remember, they can tell you apart from other people, but can you tell one crow from another...? just another page from our weird world, and another day here at the crazy. Ciao for now.
One of the biologists John Marzluff from the University of Washington in Seattle got the bright idea of wearing masks to tag the birds just to check and see if the birds really were remembering who it was that tagged them. And sure enough the birds would react negatively to whoever was wearing the mask if the mask was worn to tag the birds.
They did not however respond strongly to the Dick Cheney mask being worn by researchers which shows that they don't read newspapers. What is really surprising is that up to three years later the birds would still respond to the mask even if they had not seen it in a long while. They would scold whoever was wearing the mask as they approached. You can see the article here. So next time you are outside and crows are around remember, they can tell you apart from other people, but can you tell one crow from another...? just another page from our weird world, and another day here at the crazy. Ciao for now.
On winter...
The dreary days of winter, are falling and falling and falling again. And frozen in it's icy grasp I wait, but the only breeze I feel is a puff of frozen breath as if the door to some ancient tomb opened and breathed out a gasp of icy eternity. If howling winds and blizzard snows would come then I would feel alive. But this avalanche of windless cold that buries sound and soul... and spring. And stabs and holds all things with icicle fingers, and white dead flesh of snow is all I see. Where is spring, and rain, and green things growing. Where is life. Waiting... and waiting... two months hence. And where now, am I (getting a little cabin fever, that's where I am.)
I've only got one thing to say about this, Damn it's cold out there. Keep warm everybody. Ciao for now.
I've only got one thing to say about this, Damn it's cold out there. Keep warm everybody. Ciao for now.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Warning writer on autopilot ....
Have you ever been on autopilot. We all have. Doing something you have done everyday for years, as an example think about yesterday, you should remember it all. It just happened didn't it. So.. what did you have for breakfast, how many cups of coffee, do you remember fastening your shoes. (We at the crazy are currently wearing winter boots which have velcro fasteners.) Memory is very selective, studies have shown that memories tied to negative or painful events are easier to access. That the emotional centers of the brain are tied directly to the amygdala which is connected closely to the memory centers in the hippocampus. So not only do we remember bad or painful things we are more likely to learn from them. Lisa recently mentioned on her facebook page "Much of pain and fear should be veiwed as a threshold not a barrier." And that pain and fear are part of every life, from birth till death and we learn and grow with each painful event, we at the crazy don't suggest you beat your children while trying to teach them math. But make them understand that pain and loss are an important part of what makes us human. So getting back to the point. Do doctors or nurses or mechanics have autopilot days. What about lawyers. In some jobs we are sure that autopilot is a necessity, Store clerk, underwear model, (We at the Crazy are not saying that underwear models or store clerks are stupid. But Einstein was never an underwear model... he was a patent clerk however so maybe he had autopilot days too. Please try to keep the image of Einstein in his tighty whities out of your head.) Here is a little experiment for you that involves memory, try picking an object, place it in front of you, focus on it for as long as you can.
After you have looked at it for a while, close your eyes, did you still see it.? Could you describe it to someone effectively. Notice that when you close your eyes and turn your head your brain still thinks of the object where you left it, it doesn't move with your head. Take the experiment a little farther, before you open your eyes remove the object. Then open your eyes and look where the object was. The brain actually still sees the object in it's place, your eyes however quickly put the space back where the object was. If someone removes the object without your knowledge when your eyes are closed the effect is much stronger. This is what we at the crazy think our autopilot is, our brain is trained to do the repetitive tasks without consulting our memory, and BOOM you have just driven fourteen miles, stopping and starting at stopsigns, Waiting for lights, but you remember very little of it, because you don't need to. (This is an extreme example, but it happens every day. watch the other drivers faces as you travel, many of them will be on autopilot.)
Some philosophers have put forth ideas about "living in the moment" or as the children of the sixties put it, "live for today." But some of us at the crazy think that if you spent every moment of every day in full focus you would go insane. Maybe a little autopilot now and then is a good thing, just remember to stop and smell the roses once in a while. Ciao for now.
After you have looked at it for a while, close your eyes, did you still see it.? Could you describe it to someone effectively. Notice that when you close your eyes and turn your head your brain still thinks of the object where you left it, it doesn't move with your head. Take the experiment a little farther, before you open your eyes remove the object. Then open your eyes and look where the object was. The brain actually still sees the object in it's place, your eyes however quickly put the space back where the object was. If someone removes the object without your knowledge when your eyes are closed the effect is much stronger. This is what we at the crazy think our autopilot is, our brain is trained to do the repetitive tasks without consulting our memory, and BOOM you have just driven fourteen miles, stopping and starting at stopsigns, Waiting for lights, but you remember very little of it, because you don't need to. (This is an extreme example, but it happens every day. watch the other drivers faces as you travel, many of them will be on autopilot.)
Some philosophers have put forth ideas about "living in the moment" or as the children of the sixties put it, "live for today." But some of us at the crazy think that if you spent every moment of every day in full focus you would go insane. Maybe a little autopilot now and then is a good thing, just remember to stop and smell the roses once in a while. Ciao for now.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
The immortal Henrietta Lacks.
Every once in a while when you let your interests wander and get curious about something you might normally ignore you can discover very interesting things.
For example while researching for our own edification and amusement the life of Jonas Salk and his part in the discovery of a vaccine for polio we came across the name of Henrietta Lacks. She died on October 4th, 1951 of cervical cancer. And one would think that would be the end of her. But part of her still lives, and may live forever. After her death Doctor George Gey removed some of her cancer cells to create an immortal cell line. (These are cells that avoid programmed cell death, Henrietta Lacks cells are not the only immortal ones but they are more interesting for other reasons which we will explain shortly.) You see, Henrietta's cells are taking over the planet. Ok, not the entire planet, let us explain, it seems her cells are so prolific that they have spread to other test cultures in labs all over the world. One website listed 168 lab cultures, of which 61 are contaminated by Henrietta's cells. (Scientists call them HeLa cells.) Many scientists have had to destroy months of testing data as they found that Henrietta's cells contaminated their experiments. And once Russian and American Doctors exchanged angry words as Henrietta's cells contaminated cultures in a joint American/Russian study in a fight against cancer. (During the cold war no less.)
It might be pertinent to point out that the cells taken from Henrietta were taken without the families permission. (A later supreme court case decided that tissue taken by Doctors during treatment belonged to the hospital.) It also should be pointed out that there are so many HeLa cells in labs all over the world that there are currently more Henrietta Lacks cells than there were when she was alive. Henrietta unknowingly however has aided in the cure for Polio, and her cells are still being used today for testing in almost every medical endeavor that is taking place.
So in more ways than one Henrietta Lacks will live forever. So next time you are at the hospital or anywhere near a lab, remember that Henrietta Lacks is most certainly near. We at the Crazy are not sure if we feel comforted or frightened by the prospect. Just a thought, Ciao for now.
For example while researching for our own edification and amusement the life of Jonas Salk and his part in the discovery of a vaccine for polio we came across the name of Henrietta Lacks. She died on October 4th, 1951 of cervical cancer. And one would think that would be the end of her. But part of her still lives, and may live forever. After her death Doctor George Gey removed some of her cancer cells to create an immortal cell line. (These are cells that avoid programmed cell death, Henrietta Lacks cells are not the only immortal ones but they are more interesting for other reasons which we will explain shortly.) You see, Henrietta's cells are taking over the planet. Ok, not the entire planet, let us explain, it seems her cells are so prolific that they have spread to other test cultures in labs all over the world. One website listed 168 lab cultures, of which 61 are contaminated by Henrietta's cells. (Scientists call them HeLa cells.) Many scientists have had to destroy months of testing data as they found that Henrietta's cells contaminated their experiments. And once Russian and American Doctors exchanged angry words as Henrietta's cells contaminated cultures in a joint American/Russian study in a fight against cancer. (During the cold war no less.)
It might be pertinent to point out that the cells taken from Henrietta were taken without the families permission. (A later supreme court case decided that tissue taken by Doctors during treatment belonged to the hospital.) It also should be pointed out that there are so many HeLa cells in labs all over the world that there are currently more Henrietta Lacks cells than there were when she was alive. Henrietta unknowingly however has aided in the cure for Polio, and her cells are still being used today for testing in almost every medical endeavor that is taking place.
So in more ways than one Henrietta Lacks will live forever. So next time you are at the hospital or anywhere near a lab, remember that Henrietta Lacks is most certainly near. We at the Crazy are not sure if we feel comforted or frightened by the prospect. Just a thought, Ciao for now.
Now we've heard everything.
Having a cup of coffee and a banana muffin (made with love by Lisa) the crazy came across another bit of strangeness directly from the twilight zone. It seems that from 1994 to 1997 the small town of Oakville in Washington State (about a hundred miles south of Bremerton where one of our readers Swana makes her home.) Had an unusual rainfall, it rained a clear gelatinous goo, and not just any goo, this goo had eukaryotic cells (basically found in all living creatures) and also contained bacteria found in human digestive systems. And to make matters even more interesting anyone who touched the stuff got sick with flu like symptoms that lasted sometimes for months.
Like something out of a horror movie "Attack of the living goo!" the stuff fell for miles across the Washington countryside. It fell on seven occasions, starting in 1994 and the last in June of 1997. Of course many theories were put forth by the local people, military experiment, airline waste disposal, alien invasion, exploding jello factory. But no one has ever discovered where the gelatinous goo came from, and probably no one ever will, but we at the crazy love it for what it is, another strange interlude in the land of the Crazy. Ciao for now.
Like something out of a horror movie "Attack of the living goo!" the stuff fell for miles across the Washington countryside. It fell on seven occasions, starting in 1994 and the last in June of 1997. Of course many theories were put forth by the local people, military experiment, airline waste disposal, alien invasion, exploding jello factory. But no one has ever discovered where the gelatinous goo came from, and probably no one ever will, but we at the crazy love it for what it is, another strange interlude in the land of the Crazy. Ciao for now.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
The monotony of the everday.
Sometimes it seems, life can get pedantic, every day you get up and you have to do this, or that, or the other thing. All preordained by god (if there is one.) or nature or society. For example today is garbage day, and all the trash we have collected over the week must be put out on the curb for the disposal crew. Of course we could just choose not to put the garbage on the curb but pretty quickly things would get out of hand. So how to deal with the monotony (which an online dictionary defines as tedious sameness or repetitiousness.) One thought that comes to mind is to disseminate our garbage into the neighbors piles on either side of our house. And see if the garbage man is aware enough to wonder what happens to the garbage from an obviously lived in house. (Of course thinking about it, if we find taking the garbage out to be a boring repetitious task, imagine what the garbage man goes through EVERY day.) Another possibility we would like would be if garbage bags came in different colors, besides the blue city bags the clear bags or black. We would like to see tie dye garbage bags. Or perhaps poems printed on the bags so we (and the garbage man) could get a little culture with our trash. It's unfortunate that these things will not come to pass, so every Thursday for possibly the rest of our lives we will be putting out the garbage. One wonders... what if our culture were such that instead of burning or burying our dead we simply thought of the recently passed as disposable. Like a well loved shoe, or pair of jeans that must be cast off because they have been worn beyond use. The writer would find it humorous if one day the garbageman found his well used corpse on the curb with a note, "He has become too worn to use, if you can find a use for him (perhaps as a door stop) please take him, otherwise dispose of properly." Just a passing thought to break the monotony. Ciao for now.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Awake, Hungry, and gotta go.
A strange 3:30 A.M. awakening, The Bladder Fairy and the Hunger Gnome have joined forces, and driven the Sandman from our door. So to appease the Bladder Fairy I make a golden offering to the Porcelain Altar. And trek down to the kitchen in quiet darkness,
Opening the icebox (no not the refrigerator, we keep some of our cold liquids in the side porch during winter months.) Grab a little milk. And then open the fridge, Lisa has made another batch of chili, (Not as good as the Super Bowl chili of 1996, which is legendary, but definitely in the same category.) Tempted by Chili in the middle of the night, the Hunger Gnome (looking like an emaciated Santa Claus) urging me on. I take the lid off the pan and the smell of tomato and green pepper and onion and spices swirls about my head. I quickly put the lid back on pan. And grabbing a butter knife, deftly chase the Hunger Gnome across the kitchen to the bread drawer, grab a half slice of wheat bread, paste a little margarine on it. And head into the living room to tell the tale of the temporary retreat of the Hunger Gnome and the Bladder Fairy, while eating bread, and sipping on a little milk. The Hunger Gnome will be back on Sunday when the chili will be served during the Packer playoff game. But he will leave sated. And as for me, I think my friend the sandman has found his way back into the house, so back up the stairs to snuggle the one I love the most while sleeping a few more peaceful hours on a cold winter night.
Opening the icebox (no not the refrigerator, we keep some of our cold liquids in the side porch during winter months.) Grab a little milk. And then open the fridge, Lisa has made another batch of chili, (Not as good as the Super Bowl chili of 1996, which is legendary, but definitely in the same category.) Tempted by Chili in the middle of the night, the Hunger Gnome (looking like an emaciated Santa Claus) urging me on. I take the lid off the pan and the smell of tomato and green pepper and onion and spices swirls about my head. I quickly put the lid back on pan. And grabbing a butter knife, deftly chase the Hunger Gnome across the kitchen to the bread drawer, grab a half slice of wheat bread, paste a little margarine on it. And head into the living room to tell the tale of the temporary retreat of the Hunger Gnome and the Bladder Fairy, while eating bread, and sipping on a little milk. The Hunger Gnome will be back on Sunday when the chili will be served during the Packer playoff game. But he will leave sated. And as for me, I think my friend the sandman has found his way back into the house, so back up the stairs to snuggle the one I love the most while sleeping a few more peaceful hours on a cold winter night.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Historical facts aren't always so.
In our earlier blog about the Christmas Holiday we had mentioned that the bones of St Nicholas were brought to Italy by Turkish sailors in the middle ages, we had read this in a number of places (One of them being Wikepedia.) But a news story we came across this morning through our decidedly tired eyeballs begs to differ. It seems a Turkish archeologist has called on his government to ask for the return of the bones of St Nicholas as they were stolen in the middle ages by ITALIAN sailors. Just a short note to correct our error, the news story can be found here I guess this is a case where history was written by thieves. Ciao for now.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy New Year, at least to you Gregorian Calendar followers.
Another New Years day has come, and for most people in the world January 1st is the day it starts. (Although that would be a different matter entirely if not for Pope Gregory.) But we at The Crazy were curious as to what other calendars said about the New Year. We were surprised to learn that most of the world does follow the Gregorian Calendar which changed the then popular Julian Calendar (Started in -45 by Julius Caesar)
Although Julius Caesars astronomer Sosigenes adjusted for the extra time in the calendar year by adding leap years. (It seems those pesky lunar cycles refuse to obey the rules and follow our idea of what a year should be.) The March 21st Easter Celebration was drifting away from it's association with the Jewish celebration of Passover, (March 21st was the date for Easter decided by the council of Nicea in 325, you remember, the one where the Divinity of Christ was fully recognized by the Church, and Jews were declared to be "children of the Devil.") Pope Gregory decided that something must be done and slashed ten days from the calendar in 1582. (The days removed were October 5th through October 14th.) Pope Gregory also decided that on years divisible by 400 we would dispense with leap years. Which effectively fixed the 10 day error that would occur every 1500 years or so. (Ok not entirely, now the Gregorian calendar gains a day every 3300 years.) Every year the calendar gains 26 seconds. So in the long run, we're all getting older more rapidly! (Alas, but no wiser, according to what we assimilate from the media.) Damn!
Well, that's all for now folks. Heri za Mwaka Mpya! (Happy New Year in Swahili)
Although Julius Caesars astronomer Sosigenes adjusted for the extra time in the calendar year by adding leap years. (It seems those pesky lunar cycles refuse to obey the rules and follow our idea of what a year should be.) The March 21st Easter Celebration was drifting away from it's association with the Jewish celebration of Passover, (March 21st was the date for Easter decided by the council of Nicea in 325, you remember, the one where the Divinity of Christ was fully recognized by the Church, and Jews were declared to be "children of the Devil.") Pope Gregory decided that something must be done and slashed ten days from the calendar in 1582. (The days removed were October 5th through October 14th.) Pope Gregory also decided that on years divisible by 400 we would dispense with leap years. Which effectively fixed the 10 day error that would occur every 1500 years or so. (Ok not entirely, now the Gregorian calendar gains a day every 3300 years.) Every year the calendar gains 26 seconds. So in the long run, we're all getting older more rapidly! (Alas, but no wiser, according to what we assimilate from the media.) Damn!
Well, that's all for now folks. Heri za Mwaka Mpya! (Happy New Year in Swahili)
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