Wednesday 17 October 2007

Beaver? You mean vagina? I mean, you know the guy...



Is it weird to buy underwear from the supermarket? No, I don't think so. It isn't weird in other countries, so why should it be here in England? Then again, we don't eat dogs. Is it weird to spend £50 at the supermarket? Not if you've spent £10 on underwear and £11 on beer. Nothing spent on dog. I doubled up on tasty cereal because the last lot went so quickly. If I have one complaint about that cereal, it is that perhaps it's just a little bit too tasty. Full cupboards are so satisfying, and a full fridge even more so. It isn't just the £11 worth of beer though, but all of the colourful vegetables - peppers, tomatoes, carrots, mangetout - and the jars of guacamole and soured cream. I bought herbs too, and now we have parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

I felt rather Emperor's New Clothes about the Cafe RSA event with Prof. John Hyatt last night. Science Loves Art he said. But his approach was far from rigourous. "Forget what you know about science." "Be sceptical about knowledge. All knowledge." Given the fragility of his arguments, it wasn't that hard to be sceptical. He was making some very shaky connections between quite different things, and then dangling heavy conceptual weights on these delicate strings. Any system reductio ad absurdam can be divided into beginning / middle / end. His argument was that because x and y that he was 'comparing' shared that structure, they must be similar on axis z too. Junk science bunkum bullshit. Terrible.

He then started to carp on about spirals, but in a dopey and clumsy way. "DNA is what makes us what we are, and so is there any surprise that there are spirals everywhere in nature?" I don't know how he got to be a professor. Max from Pi was more convincing, and he's a fictional character. At least he knows his maths. Prof Hyatt did set my critical juices flowing, for which I'm grateful. I'm just naturally argumentative.

Robbie, Rachael and Louise round tomorrow for chilli con carne di Paulos.

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