Cookies

Figure A: This IS a cookie (we'll come to the converse later).

Today I am annoyed. I'm tired of not being taken seriously and having to explain myself to collaborators who don't bother reading my Methodology write-ups (do I seriously need to start diagramming these things in my spreadsheets?) to understand the data I share with them. I am tired of collaborators who keep coming around to our isolated little lab looking for results when it's too early for anything to have grown. I am a technician, and yes, I am powerful, but I am not a Master of Timespace. I cannot force bacteria to grow faster, and nor can I make a predict the outcome of the experiment from the first sampling time point. I have done this experiment now what...5 times? And today, today at the first time point of the newest iteration of this same experiment, you tell me that you're not sure the antibiotic concentration is optimized!? You tell me this after I have poured ~300 media plates? For real? You know, when you perhaps should have probably at some point realized that you should test all new strains with antibiotic resistance for their optimal antibiotic concentration. Just sayin'.

I don't like repeating things like this just because the data aren't what was wanted. I don't like wasting mice (germ-free, no less; although that's pretty much all we have) and time and money. And I'm sick of doing quantitative culture. Sure, I can do it accurately without thinking, but still: it gets kind of old.

But today I got a cookie. One of the animal techs had brought some chocolate chunk cookies to an earlier meeting, and she let me have one of the leftovers. It was one of those store-bought cookies full of delicious chemicals to keep it soft and chewy and non-crumbly (guar gum, I think...). So I am going to distract myself by writing about cookies.

First, in praise of cookies:

Cookies are delicious. Of all the delicious sweet foods out there, I believe that cookies are the best. Even with doughnuts, baklava, pulla, bagels, cake, pie, ice cream, pastries, scones (WTF is up with scones, anyway?), zalaybees, cupcakes, etc. out there, cookies reign supreme. There are few things in life better than a warm, soft cookie. Chewy and just a little bit crumbly. Throw in some chocolate or dried fruit and it is wonderful. That moment when you first bite into a fresh cookie and it has that crumbling crust that you bite through into the sweet softness inside is bliss.

Figure B: Toaster as a young child.

You see, when I was young I was a chubby child. I was the kind of kid who maxed out their library card and got tired of the children's section at 8 and the young adult section at 10. I was pudgy, and looking back I realize that at the time I didn't really realize it. I wasn't chubby because I ate cookies all the time (I was chubby because I was, and am, too clumsy to play outside much and I lived in the South with all the wonderfully terrible-for-your-health food), but they were certainly present , and the memories of them are indeed fond. I am no longer chubby, but that chubby kid is still with me, screaming for cookies (and M&M blizzards)...

Now, to throw down on faux-cookies:

There is an important difference between cookies and crackers. Cookies are sweet and chewy and wonderful. Crackers are hard and stale and are still crackers whether they're sweet (Animal Crackers) or dusted with salt and garlic (Triscuts). So stop calling those puny motherfuckers parading as cookies cookies! If you need a "cookie press" to make it and it's crunchy, it is NOT A COOKIE (and yeah, I'm looking at you, Nilla Wafers)!

Figure C: This is not a cookie, and if you insist on calling it as such even after reading this, I will personally find you and come kick you in the face.

We call graham crackers "graham crackers" because they are crackers. We call animal crackers "animal crackers" because they are goat fucked crackers. The only time that it is appropriate to call a crunchy, stamped, baked crackers a cookie is if it has soft filling (a la Oreos, although this may be recidivist hypocrisy on my part, because I do really enjoy Oreos). Call the scabby little bastards anything else, but not a cookie! Call them crackers, wafers, thins, butt crack peelings, whateverthefuck; I don't care! But not cookies.

You see, dear wider society, you've already squeezed all the goodness out of Saturday morning cartoons. You stopped playing good cartoons as soon as I was old enough to want or be able to buy my own cable. And the few good ones that even played after that are now canceled! So you listen to me here, you dusty, boogery bastard, you are NOT going to take cookies away from me either! I mean, shit, Cookie Monster himself now eats vegetables and fruit! What else are you going to corrupt? Are My Little Ponies going to get fashion accessories and Bratz BFFs? Is Dora the Explorer going to get a makeup kit? You've already turned Oscar the Grouch into a wuss, so stop already. Today's kids are going to grow up to be as bland as belly lint, only they'll be able to string together a text message.

Today it is cookies, tomorrow it is our very souls!

An existential question:
Do you think that the traditional cookies of any given culture are reflective of the values of that culture? Furthermore, do you believe that one's favorite cookie could yield insight into their personality? For reference, the best cookies I've had so far have invariably been oatmeal chocolate chip, even better with chopped walnuts and dried dates or something.

Things I Want to Know

These are the kinds of things that keep me awake at night, pondering and pondering.

1) My parents had a pool installed in the back yard when I was a teenager. Soon after, I found myself wondering how much Jello mix it would take to fill the pool with Jello (answer: about $1,200 worth, given Jello at $0.30/pack). I figured that in the fall, there'd be a day when the temperature would be at around 40 degrees, and the pool had a heater, so I could mix in all the Jello mix as directed. Unfortunately, I was never able to put this experiment into practice, so the question still plaguing me is: If I were to belly-flop in to a pool of Jello, would I a) bounce back, b) land flat, or c) sink into the Jello?
I even tried using physics for this. I mass about 60 kilos (z) and have a ventral surface area of approximately .66 square meters (y). If Jello has a surface resiliency of x, then so long as I zy doesn't exceed xy, I shouldn't sink in. But that still doesn't tell me whether or not I'd bounce or land flat.

2) Do M.D.s actually use the term 'booger', or do they have some kind of complex fancy term for them, like 'congealed mucus globule'? Doctors are strangely unwilling to answer this question when you ask them.

3) If one were in incredibly dire straights, could one survive on pure high fructose corn syrup? Or would its osmolarity spell doom (although neither HFCS nor osmolarity actually spell D-O-O-M or can be reconfigured to say so)?

4) What are the ethics of android sex? I mean, eventually technology is going to produce rather sentient and human-like machineries, so will it be ethical to also give those androids sex drives even though they would, at a nominal assumption, be unable to procreate thereof (that's a whole other issue)? And if so, would they discriminate from one another on a basis of voltage? And, furthermore, would gender differences arise in androids? If so, would they be the result of different programming structures or of socialization?*

5) What if there's another Earth the same size and composition of ours orbiting exactly 6 months ahead/behind us? It'd be always hidden on the other side of the sun so we'd never be able to see it with our telescopes.*

6) What kind of sounds to mitochondria make? Or, for that matter, chloroplasts?

7) Wouldn't it be cool to build a gigantic (e.g., 15m high) mechanical chicken and pilot it to work everyday? And while at it, why not install some fire-breathing apparatus?

8) While I am relieved that terrestrial bacteria are microscopic, I can't help but wonder if, somewhere in the universe, there are massive, planet-sized Ur-bacteria? And wouldn't it be ironic if multicellular organisms lived on or in them?*

9) Would perchloric acid be spicy or sour?*

10) Let's pretend that there's a giant catapult, say, with the fulcrum in Hawaii and the launch arm ending somewhere in California. If one were to get into the basket at the end and launch themselves, would a) they launch themselves into orbit, b) fall off due to inherent structure instabilities that are inescapable at such large scales with present construction technology, or c) be crushed by G-forces and/or fried crispy by friction from air?

Lunch with Microbiologists

The general populance needs to grow up.

Organisms get sick. Sometimes they die. And most are filled with mushy networks of organs and other various liquids and goos.

But the general, non-biologically-inclined, public seems hellbent on ignoring the most basic aspects of their own constitutions. In general, people wait until something is wrong and then go to a doctor and treat them like a plumber for a quick fix, like some lug nuts and a prescription can cure anything. It seems to me that it would be much wiser to go ahead and learn about the workings of one's own body in the first place so that the states of health, disease, and the various shades between can be better recognized and dealt with.

But maybe that's unreasonable, that'd require comprehensive and well-funded science education, as well as curiosity and a willingness to learn.

Or at least to be less squeamish. I've found that people in general really hate it when they're reminded that the meat on their plate came from a living animal, as if it reminds them on their own animal-ness somehow, or their responsibility in the death of another living organism despite their vaunted culture and whatnot.

So basically, I was at a joint lab lunch today with a bunch of animal researchers and microbiologists. Didn't happen today, because the restaurant was kind of empty and our table was kind of isolated. But to hear these more experienced scientists recount the disgust with which non-scientist people greet their work-related discussions kind of bothers me. I could understand a table of non-scientists getting up and walking away if we were gleefully debating the best ways to exsanguinate a mouse or to homogenize a tissue as though they were activities we look forward to as if they were cookies. However, in general, scientists discuss their research in respectful tones, and obfuscate their topics with jargon. But as soon as some soccer mom hears about taking fecal samples or sections of the anthrum for histology, she suddenly loses her appetite. Is it really so disgusting to be reminded that living things poop?

I guess that is one of the "greatest" talents of the human animal:
Self-delusion.

Collectively, we dupe ourselves into believing that we are beyond biology simply by grace of being human. Somehow, being human means trying really hard to ignore poop, pee, sweat, smegma, snot, puke, spit, and any of the various fluids produced by our genitalia. And we take it even further with our obsessions over clothing and shaving and hair styles.

A dog simply doesn't care if its hair is fashionably stylized so long as its not uncomfortable. Most bodily secretions provide very useful information to most animals. But we hide all of ours away to the point where we have deluded ourselves to the point where we think we are completely separate and above nature. How convenient it is to forget that the food on our plate, be it flesh or vegetable, was grown out in a field somewhere, nourished by the sun and soil! I guess that doesn't much matter though, when >50% of our body mass came from high fructose corn syrup...