Scot Bastian Ph.D.
  • Home
  • About
  • Artist
  • Scientist
  • Skeptic
  • Multimedia and links
  • Do Ya Think? Blog
  • Contact

"Life Force" a Poem About Evolution in Honor of Burning Man

8/26/2015

3 Comments

 
Yo! It's that time of year again, and I'm about to leave for TTITD (That Thing In The Desert), AKA Burning Man. In celebration of this epic event, I have written an epic poem about evolution which I will read at a couple of events on the Playa. For those not attending this event, below is a copy. If you're coming to Burning Man this year come and visit me and we can chat.

THE LIFE FORCE
     by Scot Bastian © 2015
     Camp Althing in Hushville at 5:15 and E.

I sit under the palm trees, breathing in the trade winds, as the cirrus clouds sweep by calling, calling, ever so quietly: come. Bring your dreams to the ocean, my friend. Come to the sea. My eyes open and the sun is falling and the fish jump to escape the sea lions and the sea lions flee the sharks. Come, come to me. Poseidon, my father, you are so deep. So blue. So kind. So limitless. With the foam hissing on the shore and the waves rising and falling. I ask why?

Never mind the why, just tell me when.

Such are my dreams. 


It is hard to imagine time.
From molten marble, to pale blue dot
the rumbling Earth awakens from its fiery past. It is also hard to imagine liquid rock.
To parse time into increments does it a disservice, for each moment is infinitely divisible.
Four and a half billion years.

Did I begin with a bang?

The crack of a lightning bolt
     striking a pond of dark ooze?
Or did I begin with a bubble
     clinging to the edge of a volcanic vent?
Perhaps I started elsewhere
     arriving on an ancient meteor originating from another planet.

I guess I’ll never know,
    but I wonder.

Molecules break apart, then recombine. 

Rare events that seem to defy entropy.
But the sun can reverse entropic chaos.
Patterns are formed. Order from disorder. Repeating units. Molecular arrays.
My life force traverses through millennia.
Adapting.
Becoming.

Then the sun goes and the sky blackens and my eyes close. I dream of mermaids and mermen skipping through the surf. Playing games of tag and singing songs. Joyous chortling and catching breaths. The sea never stops, you know, mermen and mermaids never die. They never stop cavorting through the waves. They also never eat, living in a continuous state of delight, giggling and guffawing forever. A mad loop of laughter and frantic swimming. Their favorite game is tag, but everyone wants to be “it.” They so love to chase. They never tire. They never cease.

Such are my dreams.

And here I swim at the edge of the sea
Not quite a land dweller, yet not a typical fish.
I am a mudskipper.

When the tide is low there are many things to see.
The bones of my mind are exposed.
I wish to crawl freely onto the land, but I am attached.
It will take many years until I can emerge freely.

Then she arises as Botticelli’s Venus from the clam shell. I, waiting like a child. Wanting. Wanting it so. And she smiles. Botticelli’s Venus, da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, and the countless Virgin Marys all bear the same smile. It is the smile of Earth-mother ever expecting. Let me lie in your arms Goddess-of-all. Gaia. Demeter. Diana, Goddess of the Moon. Can I just curl up in your arms? Can I be your child and feel the warmth of your breast. Caress me, not like a God, but hold me like a mother. Come Mother, and find me. And she does.

Such are my dreams.

In the tide pool, the sea stars have nowhere to go, nor do they want to. But I gulp spoons of warm sunshine, and gaze longingly at the shore. I break the surface with a rapid exhalation of breath. I crawl from my saltwater birthplace, carrying the salt within my veins. I cannot escape the sea—I carry it with me. I am newly-born. Emergent! I am cold mother. I walk the sand on the beach. Am I the child of the fish or the cousin of the mudskipper? The frog prince. My ventral sacs swell as I push out air. It is not a croak, it is a song. Others respond and we multiply. My skin hardens, as I breathe more freely. I walk slowly munching on the jungle. Now, so tall I can reach the canopy. Roaring with the gods! But, like the gods, I am arrogant, and thus fade. Fade away. Raging fires always blow out. Embers burn slowly, red hot, but inconspicuous, I live in the shadows of giants. Did my ancestors nibble on the eggs of the terrible lizards, contributing to their demise?

When I first escaped the ocean did I know that some my descendants would crawl back?

Are the dinosaurs the ghosts of birds? When the mighty fall I take wing. Soaring in the atmosphere, I look down not at the smallness of all things, but at the largeness of the expanse. The wind rushes through me. I am drawn again to the seashore. I light upon the cliff face and stuff bits of crab into my nestlings mouths. They are such beggars. They rustle their wings, nearly casting each other off the cliff side. I turn a gaze at the sea. The waves crash, exploding on the cliff.

My nose wiggles and my tail grows. I learn to scurry and then to run, launching onto my rear haunches I lean forward the wind whistling and then roaring through my hair. I plop down and survey the scene. Cycads and lichens abound. I gaze at the curl of the horizon and want more.

When the tide is low there are many things to see. When spirits are low and exposed, like driftwood washing onto the beach, my smooth, white, desires bake in the sun. The gulls call and drop from the sky, poking around, seeking bits of rotting fish and beached crabs. The air is rank and heavy, like a salty barnyard with fish-soaked silage. Stones and sand are interspersed with bits of glass rendered smooth by the waves grinding in the tumble of churning sand. The horizon curves into infinity, stretching in all directions. But I look to the sea. The sun shines, but it has no carefully circumscribed edge. I close my eyes again.

Such are my dreams.

My parents sort, and pair off, performing the love dance and the gene shuffle.
And I am conceived.
I dig into the wall of mother’s uterus, a spelunker in the primordial cave.
I dig deeper, releasing enzymes that allow me to burrow and implant.
Can I want, or do I only exist?
Can a fetus ask a question?
And now, I am man.
But what is man?
How far back do I go?
I am the sum of all my ancestors.
I am not the endpoint.
The journey is not over.
The life force continues to transform and grow.
How long will the journey last?
How can I know?
Perhaps, I will reach for the stars…Such are my dreams.

Picture
3 Comments

The Solution to the Earthquake and Overcrowding Issues in Seattle and Portland   

7/17/2015

2 Comments

 
Picture
A recent New Yorker article about the precarious position that us Northwesterners find ourselves in, regarding the potential for a massive earthquake has created a bit of a collective stir in paranoid consciousness. The article suggests, if the big one hits, everything west of Interstate-5, might be "toast." This has created quite a hornets nest of fear in the more skittish members of the local populace. This collective anxiety reminded me of the planet Bethselamin, from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe, by legendary author Douglas Adams. Here is the wikipedia description of the planet:

Bethselamin is a fabulously beautiful planet which attracts billions of tourists each year. Unsurprisingly, cumulative erosion is a serious concern of the local authorities. Their solution is to calculate the net imbalance between the amount of matter eaten and the amount subsequently excreted by each visitor, and remove the weight difference through amputative surgery. Thus it is vitally important to get a receipt after every trip to the lavatory while on the planet.

How is this related? I have a novel hypothesis on why this threat, which has really been here all along, has only recently become a hot topic of discussion. The reason is that, similar to Douglas Adams' planet, the risk of earthquake has been significantly enhanced by the collective humanity that has poured into the region. It is simple physics. There is now more weight in this region of the country from all the human beings moving here, which creates an imbalance in the subduction zone, which might exacerbate seismic activity. As far as I know this idea is completely novel, and this hypothesis awaits testing by the scientific community. But, until testing confirms my theory, I propose that we take the following precautions; 1) No one will be allowed to move to Seattle or Portland unless they can persuade at least two people to leave. This has the dual benefit of ameliorating some of the problems with traffic congestion and the housing shortage that have plagued Seattle recently. 2) If you feel compelled to visit, you must pay a homeless person (and house and feed them, of course) to travel elsewhere during the duration of your stay. This idea also has multiple benefits. It provides gainful employment to the indigent population and encourages tourism (and cultural exchange!) between different regions of the country.
   I realize this is a novel idea, and will likely be controversial, but it is my hope that this small blog entry will be a starting point of community discussion, that will lead to endless town hall meetings, followed by the formation of an actionable change in public policy, followed by more public discussion, and eventual death in committee. Spread the word. We need to take action on this now.
2 Comments

Plutopalooza! Three local Seattle Events!

7/14/2015

1 Comment

 
Oh, what fun! This week the New Horizons NASA Mission to flyby Pluto is coming to fruition. As I have said before, NASA is, by far, my favorite government agency. I am in continuous awe of what the NASA engineers can get done across the unbelievable expanse of space. And they often do it flawlessly. One of the things I learned this week, is how big that Charon, the moon of Pluto, compared to the planetoid. Check out this recent, false-color image of Pluto next to Charon (Note: The distance between the two is also false.)
Picture
Another striking fact, is that both Pluto and Charon are much smaller than Earth. Below is a depiction that I find striking. Note that this might be fractionally off, because now that we're in the neighborhood, it seems that Pluto is a little larger than we thought. It's still only about the size of the US.
Picture
One interesting speculation that I have, is I wonder if the flyby mission wasn't launched a few months before pluto was "demoted" from planet to planetoid, if this mission would have taken a different trajectory. No matter, Pluto is still the coolest dwarf planet I know. 

There are three Pluotopalooza Parties brewing locally that I know about, one is right here in West Seattle tonight at the library, another celebration by Astronomy On Tap, tomorrow, July 15th and yet another big celebration at the Museum of Flight on Sunday the 19th. Woo-Hoo, go get yer astrofix! 
Picture
1 Comment

Trepidation About Trepanation?

1/1/2015

1 Comment

 
Picture
   What is your favorite surgery? Mine, without a doubt, is trepanation. Trepanation is the deliberate creation of a hole in the head using surgery, exposing the Dura Mater (thick covering) of the brain. This website, "The Trepanation Guide" which advocates trepanation, describes it as "...oldest surgical procedure practiced by mankind."  I found what I consider a more responsible description in Wikipedia as "perhaps the oldest surgical procedure for which there is archaeological evidence." After all, doesn't it seem reasonable that soft tissue surgeries, such as castration or appendix removal, may have been performed or attempted, without leaving a trace?
   Evidence of trepanation is widespread, and has been traced back to neolithic times in Europe and at least 2500 years ago in South America. Below are pictures of an Incan skull from Peru (left). In ancient Peru trepanation was apparently fairly common--approximately 1000 Incan skulls have been identified. The picture on the right was discovered in Germany. One archaeological site in France identified 40 out of 120 skulls that had been trepanated. Many trepanated skulls have multiple holes, with the margins of "successful" surgeries often showing signs of healing. Sharper edged holes may indicate an "unsuccessful" surgery. Success rates have been estimated 75-80% in South America, and a remarkable 90% in Europe. 


Picture
Picture
   I find it surprising that, given the absence of antibiotics and modern anesthesia, that they had any success at all.
   Why would anyone want to have a hole bored in their head? One can imagine that ancient humans might have used the technique to try and treat headaches, dizziness, epilepsy, evil spirits, tumors, head injuries, hematomas, etc.--virtually anything that might be related to the head. But, widespread use of trepanation and the presence of as many as 4, 5 or even 7 holes, might suggest a ritual aspect of the surgery. With the advent of modern medicine, trepanning has largely, gone the way of blood letting and bulbing, as an archaic treatment. There are modern, defensible uses of trepanation, to treat hematomas and assorted brain surgeries, but, of course, the bone is generally replaced after the surgical procedure (Many docs play golf. I wonder if they mumble to themselves "Always replace your divots," at the close of surgery.)
   However, there are a few advocates of the surgery for its supposed psychological benefits. Bart Huges, sometimes spelled Hughes, saw trepanation as a "pathway to higher consciousness." A recurring theme that I see in advocates is that it is an attempt to increase blood flow to the brain in an attempt to recapture the plasticity and "happier and more energetic" state of mind in an infant. The rationale is that the flexible fontanel (soft spot) in a baby's cranium allows for more blood flow, which is restricted with hardening of the skull as we mature. The result of the surgery, as the "Trepanation Guide" expresses it, is that you are “…happier, more energetic and less prone to crippling bouts of ennui. You'll ascend to the child's plane of acute consciousness from which you disembarked to enter the lowly malaise of adulthood." 
   Hmm, to put it mildly, I have my doubts regarding the benefits.
   Joey Mellen wrote a book called Bore Hole, which described his experiments with trepanation. His first attempt was unsuccessful. Mellen ended up hospitalized and was recommended for "psychiatric evaluation." His second attempt, with the aid of his girlfriend Amanda Fielding, worked. As Mellen described it,

“After some time there was an ominous sounding schlurp and the sound of bubbling. I drew the trepan out and the gurgling continued. It sounded like air bubbles running under the skull as they were pressed out. I looked at the trepan and there was a bit of bone in it. At last!”

Picture
   Yeeesh, not something I would want to go through. Fielding later trepanned herself. Here is a link to an interview with Amanda Fielding, who founded the Beckley Foundation, which investigates consciousness and advocates drug reform, ran for office in the British Parliament in 1979 and 1983, although she described her candidacy as more of an "art project," intended to "try to get the medical profession to agree that [tepanation] is an interesting subject and is worthy of research,"rather than a serious attempt to get elected. Below is an interesting campaign poster. 


 There is an hour long documentary called "A Hole in the Head," which is available for purchase. I haven't seen the film, but it might be interesting. 
   If you want more info more on trepanation I recommend the Skeptic's dictionary and from this article from Charles D. Gross at Princeton. 
   Let me close with a couple videos. On the left is an interview with Bobby Lund, an advocate of trepanation, and on the right is a toe-tappin' light-hearted look at the process(along with some other interesting history of anatomy) from Zoochosis. 

1 Comment

Math and Science Suck

10/25/2014

1 Comment

 
Picture
I have some ISSUES with some scientists and mathematicians. Some examples follow.

Sir Isaac Newton 
You know, one more prismatic color, and a little bit of shuffling, and we could have had IB GROOVY instead of ROY G BIV. Damn you Newton! You coulda done better!

Pierre de Fermat
Yeah, sure you had a a clever proof for your theorem that you just couldn't quite fit into the margin of your book. Yeah, right. Sure you did. Well, I call bullshit. You just wanted to mess with people--and it worked--for 358 years. Come on. Admit it. You never had a proof. What a poser.

Albert Einstein
Albert, you suck! If E didn't equal MC squared, we might be able to exceed the speed of light, and make interstellar travel a practical reality. Even Neil deGrasse Tyson thinks we probably can't do it. Go re-work your math, willya?..and quit messing with my dreams.

Charles Darwin
You suck too! If Lamarck had been right, then parents might be able to pass a college education on to their kids without paying for it. I hope epigenetics kicks your bearded ass! Go back to staring at barnacles ya loser!

James Watson and Francis Crick
You two guys can go suck an egg. It woulda been a whole lot easier to visualize DNA replication and transcription if you made it flat instead of all twisty. Fix that, dammit!

Gads! You math- and scientist-types are getting on my nerves. Makin' things so dang complicated! What pests!

Oh, and one more thing--about Pi--I'm rounding it down to 3.141. And if you don't like it, STUFF IT UP YOU NOSE.

Sheesh.

Quote:
      

    "Everything should be made as simple as possible,
    but not simpler.
"  Source unclear



1 Comment

This Week in Mating Dances

10/14/2014

0 Comments

 
Play them all at once for a surreal experience.
0 Comments

Global March For Elephants and Rhinos October 4th.

10/1/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
A few weeks ago I gave a talk to The Seattle Skeptics about Elephants. I also blogged about theses magnificent beasts here and here. A recording of the talk is available through the previous links. The talk was really directed at a general discussion about some of the skeptical issues surrounding elephant biology, such as, are elephants capable of artistic creation? Do elephants show altruistic behavior? Are they really afraid of mice? What I didn't really discuss is how endangered these magnificent animals are. Sadly, according to this article from the Smithsonian, "The World Wildlife Fund estimates that 470,000 to 690,000 African elephants remain in the wild...
[but]...elephant poaching began picking up in 2008 and peaked in 2011, with around 40,000 animals killed that year alone."  The war on poaching continues. The problem of poaching of rhinos is even more dire.
    Most of the poaching is a response to the black market demand for elephant ivory and rhino horn, primarily in Eastern countries. This demand is completely nonsensical, since there are ample plastic substitutes for elephant ivory. Heck, there is even a plant substitute in the form of "vegetable ivory," which is derived from the endosperm of palm seeds. Poaching of rhinoceros makes even less sense. Rhino horn, which is used as a folk medicine to treat a variety of ailments (primarily cancer), but also, of all things, hangovers, is composed mainly of keratin--the same stuff in nails and hair. It would be a tragedy to lose African elephants and rhinos for such ridiculous reasons.
    But, my intent in this blog entry is not to provide an exhaustive treatise about elephant or rhinoceros biology. I want to provide publicity for the Global March For Elephants and Rhinos which will take place this Saturday October 4th. The above link has more info about events that might be near you. There will be protests in many locations. The local Seattle event, which I intend to attend, will take place in the International Children's Park beginning at Noon. I urge you to attend. The Facebook Event page, lists the following speakers and events:

Tom Skerritt, Actor and Conservationist
Lisa Kane JD, Lawyer, Co-Author and Co- Editor of An Elephant in the Room
Wendie Wendt, Lawyer, Executive Director of Big Life Foundation. Former Board Member of PAWS, Former Vice President and Director of Fundraising for U.S Friends of The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust.
Comedian Cathy Sorbo will be Emceeing the event!
We are excited to announce that we will have African Drummers!

So, I hope to see you Saturday. Let's do what we can to prevent the hunting to extinction of these magnificent animals.

Picture
0 Comments

I Boldly Went Where Many Have Gone Before

9/20/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
Today I watched the very last episode of the very last season, of "Enterprise," the last Star Trek series on television. I have now seen ALL of the episodes of every series: Star Trek (the original series), The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise. (No, I haven't watched the cartoons). It's been a great ride. All of them I acquired over the last several years from the Seattle Public Library, the greatest library in my world--so I could watch them without commercial interruption. I will say this, Star Trek is not (IMO) the "best" television fiction in history (Many others, including Breaking Bad, Slings and Arrows, Twilight Zone, Downton Abbey and West Wing, vie, in my mind, for that distinction.)  But, I can say, without reservation, that Star Trek has been, by far, the most personally inspiring. I dream of a day when we can all live in harmony, independent of class and race distinction, and monetary slavery, exploring the universe, boldly going where no one has gone before. Someone once defined the difference between science fiction and fantasy. They said sci-fi (which they preferred to call speculative fiction) describes what possibly could happen, whereas fantasy, although imaginative and fun, can't possibly happen. I think this is a pretty blurry distinction, but it is evident that Star Trek has featured some concepts that have become true, even commonplace (think cell phones, computer tablets, and flat screen televisions). Star Trek also explores the human psyche, frequently exploring ethical dilemmas that are resonant today and promise to continue to be challenges in the future. I really don't know, and I have considerable doubts, that we will ever overcome the barriers of physics, making interstellar travel, or transporters possible--but I hope so.  I also don't know, but I have have hopes, that one day humanity will overcome petty differences that divide us, making a Star Trek-like future possible. Quoting Langston Hughes,
“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”
Below, left, is a nice video that summarizes some of the prescient story Star Trek story elements that we see in the real world today. On the right is a collection of  the inspiring openings and credits for each series. No, you're not going to watch all of the second video, but I just wanted it here. 


Let me add one more item. A couple days ago I saw a fantastic Nova documentary on the search for extra-terrestrial life. Chock-full of original NASA footage. Almost two hours long, and worth every moment of your time. When I write "fantastic," this is only an adjective, every bit of this is the real thing. Check it out here.
   
Thank you Gene Roddenberry, for sharing your vision with the world.
Picture
0 Comments

Burning Man and Martha, the Last Passenger Pigeon

8/19/2014

4 Comments

 
Picture
This is likely my last blog entry before I take my annual journey into Black Rock Desert for the amazing festival known as Burning Man. I wrote an article that I submitted to the Black Rock Beacon, one of the more popular publications on the Playa. Below is the article submitted, but I have no way of knowing whether it will be accepted or modified.

A TRIBUTE TO MARTHA: THE LAST PASSENGER PIGEON

            By Scot Bastian

Lost in the turbulence of history, overshadowed by the beginning of the “Great War” known as World War I, was a momentous event in the chronicles of ecology: the extinction of the last known passenger pigeon, The last known individual of her kind, named Martha, died in the Cincinnati Zoo 100 years ago on September 1st 1914, exactly 100 years ago on the last day of this year’s Burning Man.
    Passenger Pigeons were a force majeure in the Eastern landscape. Once numbering in the billions, they were quite possibly the most numerous bird species in the world. When Europeans arrived in North America, population estimates ranged from 3 to 5 billion, approximately 25 to 40% of the total North American birds. They traveled in huge flocks, one of which was described as a mile wide and three hundred miles long, and taking 13 hours to pass overhead. The flocks were so dense in number that they were said to eclipse the sun. Passenger pigeons were named for the French word passenger, which translates as “passing by.” They were half again as large as their cousin the mourning dove, and resembled its Western relative, the band-tailed pigeon. The range of the passenger pigeon extended north into Canada and west to Eastern Texas and Eastern Montana. When these immense flocks roosted hundreds of millions of birds would leave a swath of destruction, scouring the landscape for food, and crushing trees with their collective weight. The largest recorded nesting colony was 850 square miles. In spite of their enormous numbers they are gone. Gone forever. Why did they disappear? The basic problem was that they were delicious. The young birds, called squabs, were particularly prized. Their undoing was the density of their flocks and their propensity for colony breeding. The density of the nesting communities made them easy prey—a discharge from a double-barreled shotgun blast could kill dozens of birds. They were collected by the thousands using nets.
    The last confirmed wild passenger pigeon was observed in Indiana in 1902. Martha, was named after the First Lady, Martha Washington. After the death of her cage companions (including George) a reward was offered for finding a potential mate—but none was ever found. Martha, the last of her kind, an endling, died of natural causes at the probable age of 29 years. Her remains are on display at the Smithsonian Museum.
    Other than the fortuitous date marking the centenary since the extinction of passenger pigeons, what does this have to do with Burning Man? I think that Burners have a special appreciation for the transience of all things. Our “roost” on the Playa can be compared to the crowded passenger pigeons that are now gone. Many do not realize that, for most species, extinction is the norm. Nearly 99% of all the species that ever lived are believed to be extinct. Humans are the most prolific primates on the planet, but as evidenced by the passing of the passenger pigeon and the dinosaurs, being multitudinous provides no guarantee for survival. Burners, like passenger pigeons, live a bold, noisy existence, thriving in groups, and like Martha and her kin, Burning Man will vanish without a trace. Let’s hope the same fate doesn’t await the human race. 


More information is available about Passenger pigeons and Martha from Wikipedia, and from Project Passenger Pigeon.  There is an excellent new monograph about the species A Feathered River Across the Sky, by Joel Greenberg.

A couple of vids for your enjoyment.


"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Pave paradise, and put up a parking lot" Joni Mitchell.
4 Comments

Sports, eh? Why bother? The Olympic Games Meet Darwin's Finches.

7/20/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
Soccer is not important. Football is not important. Neither basketball nor hockey are important. Yes, some are thinking, I am that clueless, or arrogant,or whatever. (Now there's some fine writin' for ya, I'm "whatever.") But, DYT Blog reader, before you categorize me as hopelessly out-of-touch, let me say this: tribalism, now THAT is important. Yes, I both get it, and I don't get it, and no, I'm not a normal guy. Professional sport is the true opiate of the masses. I have been to a few folks houses to see major sporting events, like the Superbowl, but the main reason I go is because I like people, not the sporting event. Personally, I root for the advertisers--they always win.
    Buuuut, I do remember watching a sports event many years ago that I really enjoyed. It was an Olympic competition in women's volleyball. One team was the Soviet Union (Yeah, it was that long ago). They were astonishingly tall, amazonian, women. Any one of them could have been a model. They had legs that were up to my ear. The embodiment of statuesque. Greek goddesses, every one. On the other side was the South Korean team. It seemed the Korean women were the polar opposites of the Soviets. Snarly, short, squat, and fiercely determined. They could have bit me in thigh without bending over. I fell in love again (Forgive the hyperbole, but everything seems magnified by the kaleidoscope of time and memory.) This match would seem to have all the signs of an imminent slaughter. It wasn't. For every towering spike smashed by the Soviet team there was a headlong dive by one of the Koreans, who defiantly, and deftly, dug out the ball and saved it from the floor. It looked like David might actually have a chance against Goliath. The Koreans were everywhere! They had ten hands each! They dove! They sacrificed! They would NOT let the ball hit the floor! The Soviet Amazons redoubled their efforts, jumping higher, smashing harder and harder, trying desperately to break the resolve of the Korean team. The contest was brutal but the Soviet Union team won. Someone had to win. But, there were no losers here.
    The whole contest reminds me of Darwin. What? Where did that come from? Charles Darwin in his youth took a long voyage of discovery on the HMS Beagle. His experiences on this trip, particularly when visiting the Galapagos Islands, formed the basis for his development of the theory of evolution by natural selection. What does this have to do with women's volleyball? Everything. Darwin took several samples of what came to be known as Darwin's Finches. The Galapagos Islands are composed of several islands and atolls. Darwin collected many specimens on this voyage, including 14 different species of finches, 12 of which proved to be new to science. When Darwin returned to England, with the help of the ornithologist John Gould, who was sort of the John Audubon of Europe, it was noted that there were obvious differences in beak shape from island to island corresponding with what food the different species ate. Below is a chart illustrating this.

Picture
Note that all of the different species are believed to evolve from one ancestral form. This is a fine example of evolutionary adaptive radiation. Researchers continue to study these fascinating birds. A book entitled The Beak of the Finch by Jonathan Weiner, published 20 years ago documents continuing changes in Darwin's Finches, by an evolutionary process called punctuated equilibrium, which was championed by Stephen Jay Gould. Basically, punctuated equilibrium demonstrates that evolution can progress in rapid bursts over short periods of time, rather than the more gradual incremental process that Darwin envisioned.
  What does this have to do with women's volleyball? Everything. Although, it would be incorrect to say that the South Korean and Soviet women are different species, it does demonstrate how variant forms can lead to success (although it's a bit of a stretch to compare volleyball success with reproductive success.). So, when did this contest of volleyball stars happen? Well, after a little searching, I discovered that it took place in 1976, and actually, The South Korean ended with a bronze medal and the Soviet team earned a silver medal, losing to the Japanese team who took the gold. That escaped my memory.
    So, in summary, I have found a new way to enjoy sports, I'll just try to think about it as a metaphor for evolution. Well, that and the fact that the women were absolutely stunning. Hmm, maybe this could lead to reproductive success--and maybe I'm not such an abnormal guy after all.
Picture
Picture
0 Comments
<<Previous

    Author

    Scot Bastian Ph.D. is a scientist and artist who lives in Seattle WA.

    Archives

    May 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013

    Categories

    All
    Burning Man
    Frogs
    Rational Hero
    Science
    Science Fiction
    Skepticism
    Theater
    Words

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly