Figure A: Current model of how Shiga toxins (Stx) produced by enterohemorrhagic Escherichia coli O157:H7 (EHEC) gets from the intestinal lumen to the kidney where tubular nephritis and glomerular metaplasia are directly observed. EHEC is not an invasive enteric pathogen.
I actually used this diagram, done in chalk and charcoal*, in a presentation for lab meeting in presenting lots of recent literature that suggests that Stx hitches a ride on activated intraepithelial neutrophils. As a result of this presentation and in particular this slide, we designed some experiments that might never be done.
*If you can spot the comics references in this, congratulations, you are nearing the Toaster Valence of Nerdness.
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In my Silence Is the Enemy post, I mentioned that I would donate anything gained from comissions or art requests to Dr. Isis' Doctors Without Borders funds. Due to a very generous response, the remainder of this month will be image heavy as I agreed to post some old stuff and make a bit of new stuff.
40X coronal stomach section, stained for actin. Click for high res. Scale bar = 200um.
Frozen section, wash off excess OCT in RT dH2O, 10min permeabilization in 100% acetone, 30min block in Toaster's Übermegablocking Buffer*, added primary polyclonal Ab without washing, incubate 1h @ RT, wash 3X in Washy Wash Buffer**, add labeled actin at 1:200 and secondary labeled Ab against primary at 1:10, incubate 1h @ RT, wash 3X in Washy Wash Buffer, tap off all excess wet, 2 drops Prolong Gold Antifade + DAPI (@RT), coverslip w/out bubbles, cure O/N in a dark box.
The resolution I managed to get here is so exquisite and the result so beautiful that I am very tempted to get a 5'x6' giclee print of it and hang it on my everything.
*Toaster's Megablocking Buffer: 1% BSA, 1% FBS, 1% NGS in 1X PBS; to make Toaster's Übermegablocking Buffer add 1:10 CD16/CD32 to block endogenous Fc antibody receptors in the tissue. **Washy Wash Buffer: 2% FBS, 0.02% NaN2 in 1X PBS
The time has come for Toaster to begin pounding out emails with enough intelligence and wit to firmly lodge my real name into the skulls of potential advisors at Ph.D. programs I am interested in. I know well enough to use proper grammars and to include titles and whatnot, so it's not the content so much that has me worried. I figure I'll track down interesting PIs through program websites, read a recent paper or 5 by them, and then ask sparkling questions about their future research plans (eventually working in the question about whether or not they expect to have spots for students available in their labs for the next round).
However, recent developments render me much more mobile than I had previously been. Now that I don't have a serious girlfriend to consider and am forfeiting most of the furniture, I can pretty much move whereever in the world I might want to. Therefore, dear reader, what is the graduate school situation like in countries outside of the U.S.A.*? Are the academic customs and mores different? Do they fund students with tuition and stipends?
I first noted UCL (University College London) via the popsci book "Oxygen" by Dr. Nick Lane and then noted that it produces a lot of high quality research. There seem to be many other high-caliber research institutions in Britain as well**. At the same time, there are several groups in the Netherlands and one at the University of Munich doing very interesting immunological research. But I realize that my lens on this is entirely modulated through the Internet and as such may be missing some really cool/interesting/awesome groups, so who else is out there?
Toaster thanks you for your wisdom in advance. *And not just those that speak English. **I am somewhat concerned about the prospect of living in a country that hasn't seen a fresh vegetable since Cromwell (and eels don't count!), though at the same time the dangers of living in a city with a Würstchen-, Bier-, und Kuchen-based socioeconomic dialectic also seem manifest.
This particular staining protocol had diaminobenzidine, hemotoxylin, and McGill's modified EA solution as stains. The diaminobenzidine, from what I understand, was supposed to color neutrophils and monocytes varying shades of grey-black intracellularly. Light blue is supposed to correspond to basophils. Either I've discovered some new property of basophils in which they invade and form sheets in the connective tissues and basement membrane of the stomach (which'd be even weirder considering that the system in question skews to TH1/TH17-driven inflammation), or I've screwed up the staining protocol somehow. The latter is much more likely, and it also looks like I left the slides in the hemotoxylin for way too long.
I just wish I could remember where I'd put the Coplin jars, because this time around I was staining out of Petri dishes (Toaster does not recommend putting xylenes in a Petri dish, unless it is a fancy glass Petri dish).
Even though I don't agree*, everyone generally seems to think that babies are really cute and that we should save them. OK, well I meant more that I don't agree with the cute thing, because otherwise they're right: we should vaccinate, intubate, and swaddle in bubble-wrap as needed!
HOWEVER, there is a huge difference between a full-term, autonomously-living baby and a 16-cell blastocyst. One is alive, the other is a tissue. I feel no compunction whatsoever supporting a woman's right to self-determination, and that includes what's going on with her womb. Basically, I don't have the organs or biogeneic capabilities that women do, so I can't really ever truly understand their situation in an unwanted pregnancy and therefore I have absolutely no right to project my opinion all over their rights.
This is a well-written reminder of the cost to fully-formed women when abortion isn't available. In these situations desperate women do desperate things that, all too often, wind up in permanent injury or even death. Here in the West, it's all too easy to think of child-birth as a safe, happy event where women painlessly pop out laughing little bundles of joy. It's too easy for soft-minded hypocritical middle-class people to forget that poverty and hunger are very real and that many women would rather terminate an inopportune pregnancy than try to raise a child in hardship.
So if you ever find yourself locked in an interminable argument with someone Who Just Doesn't Get It, point them back to the article and hopefully it'll remind them what's what.
So I don't know exactly what the lyrics to this song are at this point. I kind of improvised them as I went. I also figured out how to bend recorded pitches! Anyway, I've cobbled together some new music, the "Science Recruiting Song", which, if you're not busy puking in horror, will at the very least have you dancing a little bit in your chair. LINK!
Recently, whilst Toaster was still bumbling his way through undergrad and dancing around going "I WANNA BE A SCIENTIST!" like an enthusiastic 5-year-old in their art class smock smearing paint in their crush's hair, he drew cartoons that got published. I've been intentionally vague about the cartoons themselves because they form a huge electronic trail pointing directly at Toaster's Sekret Identity with neon flashing signs and klaxons. Lest I mislead you such that you think my cartoons were actually funny or interesting, I should admit that the cartoons I drew were editorial pieces for the college newspaper*. Mostly they were one panels. One summer I tried starting a humorous 3-panel strip, but it didn't last long when I ran out of crude robot humor and couldn't for the life of me figure out how a robot and an aristocratic octopus with a monocle and orange juice newspaper hat and their mutant penguin-wombat friend (I was deadset on these characters [I don't remember why], and this was my undoing) could possibly plausibly interact.
In the smallish world of political cartooning, I have/had two heroes: Matt Davies and Pat Oliphant. I admire their styles, wits, and steadfast, unapologetic content. Nonetheless, I let myself draw some really shitty cartoons that should never have been published. Part of it was that the newsprint the paper printed on was spectacularly porous, even for newsprint, and any effort I put into shading or detail work would be massacred on the page. Another part of it was that I tried very hard, sometimes too hard, to hide obscure symbolism in my cartoons so that those on campus who uncovered it could feel special. And the last part of it was that my editors didn't really know how to approach cartoons, but that's not entirely their faults, I should have helped them be critical (probably would've helped if I'd been more receptive, too; I once had a perfectly obvious cartoon rejected as being too controversial so I responded by drawing a rather crude cartoon on the inside of a paper plate and handing it in [it got published]). I started out drawing wonderful cartoons in pen, but eventually degraded into mere penciled in (literally) commentary on campus culture (equating sorority girls with garden gnomes was surprisingly unpopular). Throughout all of it, I really enjoyed getting hate mail and loved it when people wrote letters to the editor to complain about being offended by my tastelessness; however I did not so much enjoy official censure by the Student Race Advisory Committee and it is to the credit of my editors at the time that they did not publish my inital (angry and combative) response.
I guess I should clarify that last one. This was during the debate regarding a state constitutional amendment to ban the use of affirmative action in anything and everything. Allow me to make this clear, my position then and now is that although affirmative action is an imperfect tool it is also the best we have until mortality, morbidity, lifetime adjusted earnings, graduation rates, incarceration rates, infant mortality rates, and standards of living are no longer statistically significant between any groups. However, I chose to draw a cartoon trying to lampoon the view I had overheard from privileged white students as to how they regarded African American students being there solely because of affirmative action and not due to their own efforts. Unfortunately, I chose very poor compositional layout and it came out looking like I espoused those views (I don't). It didn't help that this was hot on the heels of a very blunt anti-affirmative action cartoon from another cartoonist.
ANYWAY!
A NEW CARTOON!
How to Make a Conservative
This was a quick pencil cartoon** in my current sketchbook. I've been reading about some of the fucktarded highly ignorant things that Republicans and assorted associated conservatives have been saying about the nomination of Judge Sotomayor to the Supreme Court of the United States. I can't help but notice that the default conservative reaction to anything and everything that does not uphold, support, or confirm their narrow worldview is to hate it; while when one of them says something one of the others like they all gather round for a circle jerk and stroke their egos.
It should probably be noted that I carry water for neither major political party in the U.S.A., but generally find the Democrats to be more sensible.
And then I found this one on my hard drive:
Deathephant.
This one was drawn back before the 2008 presidential election when I noted how prominently violent terms and war talk figured into the Republican campaign. As such, it seemed to me that Death itself may well be voting Republican this time round and I drew the above with a quill and inkpot.
Criticism welcome, but ignorant fuckwittitude will be chased down and beaten roundly with squishy rotten fish and putrescine.
*Come to think of it I think I actually never got paid for the last year I cartooned, which isn't a major loss as it would amount to barely enough to buy a sandwich with mayonnaise. **The father figure in this cartoon came out looking a lot like a character in a recent popular Cartoon Network show. Can anyone name him? The second cartoon is kind of a small clue.
Last night I went to see Gogol Bordello in concert. Absolutely incredible concert. I had a blast despite going alone. I spent 2h pogo-ing on the periphery of the mosh pit. I departed after the 2 encores (the last one of which had one of the band members surfing the crowd standing and singing on top of her bass drum) happy, ears ringing, and covered in sweat (of which probably 70% was my own). The part of the venue I was in had 5-7 people/m2, and as such I fear my conceptualization of the term "personal space" has been irrevocably altered. There were so many people crammed in every direction, dancing and surging as one, roaring the same lyrics, and moshing during the polka breakdowns that it was simply 2h of one pure adrenaline high, vicariously shared with everyone around me. I was highly impressed, not just by the band but also by the crowd. Of all the concerts I've been to, this was, without doubt, the most gender-balanced. Most punk concerts' crowds are mostly guys who think that moshing means that banal "hardcore dancing" that is a thinly veiled excuse to hit people in the face. There was none of that bullshit last night, just ricochet moshing and pogo-ing; there may have even been more women than men.
In light of my tremendous experience last night, I have some words for my fellow concert-goers:
Dear Short Women in the Mosh Pit, You are awesomely brave. I don't know if you could even see the band on stage for the thicket of people pressed around you, but you stuck it out anyway. And yeah, I saw you all kicking the ass of that skeevy guy who kept trying to grab you and for it my esteem of your badassness rises even further. I "accidentally" elbowed him in the head at one point for you (and Toaster has sharp elbows). You're awesome, Toaster
Mr. Smelly Greasy Guy, If you're going to headbang in a crowded punk mosh pit, please have the decency to wash your hair first. Covering up your BO stench (and when you can smell it over the rest of the mosh pit sweat, you know it's bad) with perfume does not fix it. Fuck off, Toaster
Dear Cute Girl I Elbowed in the Head 5 Times Whilst Pumping My Fist in the Air Before Realizing It, I'm terribly sorry. I really hope that my elbow didn't fully connect with your head and if it did, please accept my profuse and heartfelt apologies. Actually, please accept them in any event. Sincerely, Toaster
Mr. and Ms. Punkies, Shaving your hair into a rat-tail and imitating Poly Styrene's make-up before going to a concert makes you look like a punk. Leaving the mosh pit crying after the first two songs with your Hot Topic jewelry askew makes you look like a poseur. Work It Out, Toaster
Dear Hot Ladies Who Were Dancing Up Against Me, I appreciate you all. I don't know which of you all kept goosing me, but I don't really care. I know that some of you only wound up near me because I helped you up off the floor after getting knocked down by other moshers, but that doesn't explain why you stuck so near me for most of the rest of the concert. I regret getting separated from you all during the second grand finale. All the Best, Toaster
Mr. Half-Naked Screaming High Guy, You scream like a little girl and kept throwing beer cans at people while hanging from the railings. You have no idea how close you were to getting kicked in the face. Seriously, Toaster
Dear Doc Martens Boots, Thank you for your steel toes and heavy bouncing soles. I love you, Toaster
Dear Friends Who Sneered at Attending the Concert, You may have found the mere concept of "polka", "punk", or even "polka punk" odious, but you really missed out. I hope you had fun watching TV and napping instead. Hahaha!!! Toaster
Silence is the enemy of suffering. So, too, are ignorance, arrogance, and alienation. Each breeds an ugly facet of entitlement and casual atrocity in which horrors become normalized and accepted. An environment in which those in power abuse those weaker than them with absolute impunity and clear consciences. This is unacceptable and perverted.
I learned of Nicholas Kristof's column in the New York Times on the extant suffering of women and girls in Liberia through Dr. Isis and Sheril Kirshenbaums' "Silence is the Enemy" initiative. I read the article with bile rising in the back of my throat and a cold rage coiling. Cohesive words fail me. This is so sick, so utterly disgusting and depraved that I lack the frame to coherently express my outrage. Unfortunately, the problem is not limited to just Liberia. Rape continues to be used as a weapon of terror in Sudan and Congo as well. For wider context, here is Eve Ensler explaining the link between rape in Congo and our consumption in the West:
Mr. Kristof, Dr. Isis, and others have suggested that the best way to end this ongoing humanitarian atrocity is to enforce the rule of law. As I see it, this will not be enough. Rape and sexual assault have become so deeply embedded in the male psyche of Liberia that many men apparently think nothing of abusing young girls, stripping them of the joy of childhood and cruelly robbing them of self-determination and sexual autonomy. A few rapists going to jail for their crimes will not dissuade the others entirely. It should still be pursued, but the more powerful weapon in this fight against rape is shame.
Shame trumps the law, every time.
There are milder echoes of this patriarchal entitlement here in the West. My cohort celebrates the gross objectification of women and their wholesale disenfranchisement through the rap music they play at parties, the "funny" T-shirts they wear, and the words they use to describe them. I have heard, far too often, young men refer to young women as "bitches", "hoes", "booty", "poontang", etc., reducing these women to nothing more than orificies for their own use. But at least in the West, deep shame is heaped upon the perpetrators of sexual violence. It doesn't stop it from happening completely, unfortunately. But we know that without stigma and legitimization by inaction, men who have been exposed to sexual violence as a norm will perpetuate that sexual violence as though it is normal. This is what is happening right now in Liberia.
Giving money to Doctors Without Borders is one great step in the right direction, but I submit that action must also be taken to stem the tide at its source rather than just treat its victims. Let us demonize those brazen and depraved enough to assault young girls, or any woman ever at all, and call them out for the beasts they are through education and humanitarian propaganda. The use of rape as a weapon of war and terror in Liberia, Sudan, and Congo has created an environment in which boys are raised to view women as nothing more than objects for their own gratification. This reflects the dark underbelly of our own culture and our previous silence reflects poorly upon our national character. Let us call them both out and cheer as they wither in the light of exposure and make all of humanity freer.
I don't get many artwork commissions, but if any of you wish to commission something from me I will donate all of the proceeds to Dr. Isis' fund and you'll get a piece of original Toaster artwork. Her and her allies are donating all of their blogging proceeds for the month of June to Doctors Without Borders.
Immunologist, hacker, musician.
Toaster.Sunshine_AT_gmail_DOT_com
Toaster reserves the right to publish any unsolicited email received.
Twitter: @ToasterSunshine
Figure A: Current model of how Shiga toxins (Stx) produced by enterohemorrhagic Escherichia coli O157:H7 (EHEC) gets from the intestinal lumen to the kidney where tubular nephritis and glomerular metaplasia are directly observed. EHEC is not an invasive enteric pathogen.
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