Present Engagements

1. I'm building a ballista on a $10 budget.
Our physics department is hosting a Punkin' Chunkin' competition, which is both a concept and a phrase that fills my heart with joy. The idea is to see who can attain the greatest range with a homemade, jury-rigged gourd-flinger. Naturally, I couldn't pass up this opportunity to combine my love of ancient technology with the destruction of produce (cf. Halloween 2009, "De Motu Citrus Nitrensis"). As such, I've spent a number of hours rummaging through local dumpsters and junk piles for building materials. The ten dollars went towards a coil of rope, but if I can find any for free I'll use it instead. I'd share my design plan here, but I'm keeping it secret lest any rivals stumble across this blog. If everything works out, I'll try to post pictures or videos.

2. I'm interviewing for medical school.
Tomorrow. It's my first one. Still haven't really processed it. I mean, what? Me? Interviewing for med school? How did that happen? I'm just a humble punkin' chunker from a punkin' chunkin' clan - not doctor material. Don't be silly. (Can you tell I'm a little nervous?)

Granted, part of me is sure I'm going to blow the roof off this thing like a tornado in a trailer park, but that's the same part of me that also says things like "If this medicine thing doesn't work out, you could always be Supreme God-Emperor of the Galaxy," so I'm taking its advice with a grain of salt.

If this last bit seems especially prideful to you, you're right. It's part of my campaign to hit all seven deadlies in one day, because today is 3. International Blasphemy Day. So crowning myself king of the cosmos seems like a decent way to get in pride and offend the Invisible Sky-Beard all at once. Now, I'm off to find a lingerie-clad model baking a chocolate cake she won't let me have, and that should cover another 3 or 4 no problem.

"The sixth age shifts / Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon..."

Interesting article from The Daily Galaxy:

The End of Aging?

De Grey's call to action, writes Dr. Sherwin Nuland, clinical professor of surgery at Yale University School of Medicine and author of How We Die and The Art of Aging, "is the message neither of a madman nor a bad man, but of a brilliant, beneficent man of goodwill, who wants only for civilization to fulfill the highest hopes he has for its future.” An opinion darkly countered by Dr. Martin Raff, emeritus professor of biology at University College London and coauthor of Molecular Biology of the Cell: “Seems to me this man could be put in jail with reasonable cause.”

Despite the fact that the name "Aubrey de Grey" sounds like it belongs to a megalomaniac villain, and the irony that de Grey is fighting de gray, this kind of thing is like scientific catnip to me. It has the right blend of pseudoscientific wackiness and a genuine appeal to the relief of one of my darker fears. If de Grey is a nut, then this is entertaining claptrap on the order of cold fusion. But if he's right, I'll be the first to sign up for immortality, ethics be damned.

Cortisol

OK, so this article about the President's address to the AMA grinds my gears a bit-- not just as the son of physicians and a future doctor myself, but as a logical person who appreciates balanced reporting.

I'm okay with Obama not limiting jury damages in malpractice cases, and I get where he's coming from. I'm not proud of the fact that he got booed. But what really bugs me is the lack of understanding displayed by the criticism of doctors for contributing to the inflated cost of health care by ordering "unnecessary tests." I can't claim expertise in the matter, but it seems to me that if doctors were not quite so afraid of being embroiled in malpractice suits over negligence, they could relax their hyperactive testing and procedures a bit. Don't get me wrong: I'm sure a lot of doctors are greedy SOBs who do it for the kickbacks, but you can't tell me that's the motivation in every case. So it troubles me that there seems to be a change in the prevailing winds, that now accusatory fingers are being pointed squarely at doctors, often without appropriate context.

Undoubtedly, some people actually know what they're talking about. And yes, Atul Gawande, I'm looking at you. As Dr. Gawande explained, the nation's doctors must cut down on the exorbitant expenses incurred by patients, but he recognizes the complexities of the issue:

"Fixing this problem can feel dishearteningly complex. Across the country, we have to change skewed incentives that reward quantity over quality, and that reward narrowly specialized individuals, instead of teams that make sure nothing falls between the cracks for patients and resources are not misused [emphasis added]."

The skewed incentives are not only the monetary rewards that doctors gain by loading up on dubious rigmarole, but the incentive to avoid accusations of negligence. Pace organic chemistry, the specter of malpractice is one of the scariest things faced by aspiring physicians. Reading ER doc blogger WhiteCoat's "Trial of a WhiteCoat" series (which is the ongoing account of his own malpractice suit), I can't help worrying that someday I'll also be held accountable for negligence if I don't order some test or consult some specialist quickly enough, and a grieving family assumes that my hesitation to call in the heavy artillery was what killed their loved one. So I completely understand the urge to open up with the whole battery of technological marvels, fill them full of contrast and blast them with radiation, poke, prod, jab, scan, biopsy, and consult with the experts in the interest of avoiding someone suing your scrubs off. So the criticisms being leveled at the doctors are perhaps valid, but they need to be contextualized in order to be fair.

Oh, and this quote?

Obama did not blame the doctors. Instead, he tried to woo them, much as he has done with recalcitrant foreign leaders.

Really, is it really necessary to lump us in with Ahmadinejad and Co.? I don't think so.

Indiana Jones and the Lost Crusade

Let it not be forgotten that today marks the 805th anniversary of the Fourth Crusade sacking Constantinople. Yes, that's right, the capital of the Byzantine Empire-- a Christian (albeit Eastern Orthodox) empire and stalwart buttress against the rising Ottoman tide. None of that mattered on April 12, 1204, though, and the resulting slaughter was the ultra-violent capstone on the most hilarious crusade ever. To make a long comedy short, the Warriors of Christ make it to Venice without enough money, so the cunning (and blind) Doge Dandolo cons them into paying for boats by assaulting the rebellious port-town of Zara. Hearing of this development, Pope Innocent III sent a pretty stern letter to the leaders of the crusade, reminding them that killing other Christians wasn't really in the spirit of the venture, and threatening excommunication if they pulled another stunt like it.

Things might have gone smoothly at this point were it not for the appearance of Alexius Angelus. A claimant to the throne of Byzantium, Alexius (IV, or so he hoped) offered the flat-broke Knights of the Cross a humongous pile of money if they helped him reclaim his throne from Alexius III. So, they did.

The siege began around July 17, 1203, and lasted until April of the following year, during which period many wacky developments occurred, including the crusaders instating Alexius as emperor, then attacking a mosque defended by Greeks and Turks alike, and the Venetians mistakenly burning down a huge part of the city. Oops.

It all really went to hell (well, more to hell) when one of Alexius IV's courtiers, Alexius "Murtzuphlos"* Ducas had the new emperor strangled to death and proclaimed himself Alexius V.** This made the crusaders angry. And you won't like them when they're angry... Despite the Pope's warning not to do anything stupid, the Holy Warriors (for lack of a better term) totally got medieval on Byzantium's ass.

I think Papa Innocent summed it up best in this letter:

"As for those who were supposed to be seeking the ends of Jesus Christ, not their own ends, who made their swords, which they were supposed to use against the pagans, drip with Christian blood,­ they have spared neither religion, nor age, nor sex. They have committed incest, adultery, and fornication before the eyes of men. They have exposed both matrons and virgins, even those dedicated to God, to the sordid lusts of boys.*** Not satisfied with breaking open the imperial treasury and plundering the goods of princes and lesser men, they also laid their hands on the treasures of the churches and, what is more serious, on their very possessions. They have even ripped silver plates from the altars and have hacked them to pieces among themselves. They violated the holy places and have carried off crosses and relics."

Anyway, suffice it to say they all got excommunicated, the end.**** So the Crusade never got within spitting distance of the Holy Land, Constantinople got absolutely mashed, and the schism between the Eastern and Western Churches was pretty much solidified. So did anyone really win?

Yep. The Venetians did. Heaps and heaps of filthy Byzantine lucre poured into Venice-- most famously, the giant horses on the Basilica di San Marco. They stand as pigeon shit-covered monuments to the Lost Crusade, and to the eternal idiocy of "holy" war.





Footnotes
*A reference to his prominent eyebrows which, depending on the source you read, were either "bushy," "luxuriant," or "conjoined and overhanging."
**No, being named Alexius was not a requirement for the empry. Sure seems like it though.
***Ah, the sordid lusts of boys. To what ends will they not drive us? This is crucially different from the sordid lust for boys, which would be a thorn in the Church's side in a different century.
****Sort of. The ones who stayed to defend Constantinople got absolved and had their pilgrimage vows annulled, which elicited a huge "WTF?" from Innocent (see the above-linked letter).

Dragut Corsaro Di Barberia

Is this not the most sad and hapless looking gentleman you have ever seen? He looks like someone has just run over his dog, walked all over his favorite bed of geraniums, and told him that his turban looks stupid. If you actually did any of those things, though, you would likely end up as a fine mist of tiny, wet flesh-gobbets, because this man was Turgut Reis. One of the most feared Turkish corsairs of the 16th century, Turgut had a knack for projectiles and was trained from the age of 12 to be a cannoneer. Going to sea with Admiral Sinanüddin Yusuf Pasha, he quickly achieved his master's favor by being really good at hitting other ships with cannonballs-- an excellent skill for a buccaneer. So, the expression on his face is probably more like, "Aw, I'm sorry, man. You knew that if you trampled my flowers, I was going to have to blow you to smithereens. Why'd you have to go and make me do that?" The expression may also show his resigned incredulity at his own ironic death in 1565, which came on the swift wings of a lucky cannonball, fired all the way across the Great Harbor by Knights of Malta defending their island fortress from Ottoman invaders: "Dude, seriously? All the way across the harbor... I mean, what are the odds? Huh."

Further Synapses

Saw this and couldn't pass it up:
Dr. Warren, the fighting doctor whose ideals proved stronger than any temptation, is an inspiration to all of us pre-meds.

(Via Pop Sensation)