Long Shrift

technology without consequence

Last week, it was announced that scientists have developed a method of turning skin cells into stem cells, which might bypass the entire moral and ethical debate around using embryonic stem cells.

There are a couple of problems with that sentence, however. The first is the word 'might', as in this might be the "holy grail" for stem cells. The recent developments out of Wisconsin and Japan focus on two slightly different methods of 'tricking' a cell into turning into something else, and it's not clear whether these techniques actually create duplicates of stem cells:

"Nobody knows exactly what happens, but when we introduce the genes, it basically changes gene expression inside the cell, and that changes the fate of the skin cells," Yu said. "Some eventually turn into stem cells."

Even Ian Wilmut, who played a big role in the cloning of Dolly the sheep, has suggested that he will abandon cloning and focus on the new approach. From a scientific perspective, it's unwise to only pursue one theory, but it probably doesn't take much convincing to jump off the cloning bandwagon. The US Food and Drug Administration said in 2006 that cloned meat was as safe as any other meat, and suggested that official approval could come as soon as the end of 2007. But that hasn't happened, which is largely due to politics as well as economics (cloning farm animals is so expensive that the several hundred cloned animals in existence would be used for breeding, not for eating). But even if the FDA approved, the public isn't ready - something you might expect in California, if not Pennsylvania.

The other problem with that opening sentence is that phrase 'bypass the moral and ethical debate.' I think 'moral debate' is an oxymoron: you have your ideas of morality, I think you're a blithering idiot, and there doesn't seem to be a middle ground unless you've recently suffered some kind of head trauma. If there is such a thing as a moral debate, I'm guessing it wouldn't be easily bypassed, anyway.

In the strictest sense, there's a difference between morals (differentiating right from wrong) and ethics (studying the principles of right and wrong), but the vast majority of people would consider them to be the same thing. Ethics, as I see it, are about dealing with practicality. Leaving a mountain climber behind to save the rest of the team might make sense (but it's awkward when that same guy stumbles into camp the next day).

Some conservatives may be crowing over this recent breakthrough, saying that the current administration's efforts to hamper stem cell research were, somehow, prescient:

If society concludes that human embryos really do count as people, then society is certainly justified in barring such research, or at least not tax-funding it. It's all the more justified if this new alternative pans out. Why go on doing a morally troublesome thing when it's not utterly critical?

Well, maybe because this decision should be an ethical one, and not a moral one. But that's just the majority speaking. Patrick McIlheran, author of the above quote, seems to be making the case that science for the sake of science, devoid of a moral compass, is not a worthy endeavor. Another editorial from the Chicago Tribune comes to much the same conclusion:

But faith in God or faith in science doesn't have to be mutually exclusive.

Well, that depends on your idea of faith.

And the fact of embryonic stem-cell research remains: Human embryos are converted into a medical product in the hopes of perpetuating the lives of other, more powerful humans desperate for a cure.

Yup, looks like you've been following along. Your use of 'powerful' is perplexing, but I suppose if that's how you differentiate 'fetal tissue that would have been destroyed anyway' from 'a person who is suffering from a medical condition or disease,' then I'm OK with that.

What is the psychic cost of all of this? What debt is incurred by those who survive by destroying life? What of those who come after us? What world do we create for them by entertaining such choices and pretending that technology is without consequence? What happens to us in the act of avoiding these questions, so eager are we at the promise of new discoveries?

Given the options of taking my chances on the consequences of technology or allowing someone else to decide what is moral or ethical, I'll take rolling the dice every time. It's about trust, and I don't trust politicians to guide research.

On that note... Remember Hwang Woo-Suk, the guy who faked his research on cloning human stem cells? Turns out that the stem cells were created via parthenogenesis, which is an amazing feat in itself. (I don't understand why he didn't just flaunt that instead of faking the research.) This demonstrates that scientists aren't wholly trustworthy either - the difference is that other scientists have to be able to validate each other's research, something that can't be said for some of society's moral compasses.

Gandalf and the half-baked prince

The 10 types of programmers? I thought this was funny... until someone pointed out that I'm a Gandalf.

Maybe it's because I remember working with one of these.

conscious sedation

I like my dentist largely because she doesn't lecture me about how I could be taking better care of my teeth, which is a big time-saver for both of us. And most of the time, my visits to the dentist are routine and painless - my teeth have fared well over the years, which I attribute to drinking a lot of milk and blind luck. But the other day, I had three fillings put in, which was a mildly painful experience: not the actual work, but in the time lying in the chair with nothing to do but think.

Things started poorly. I arrived half an hour late, thinking the appointment was at 3pm, despite the cliche' (my appointment was actually scheduled for "tooth-hurty"). As the hygienist escorted me to the chair, it occurred to me that annoying your dentist is unwise, but the dentist was as cordial as always. They affixed the spit cloth around my neck (I'm sure there's a technical term for it, but let's face facts), and tilted the chair back far enough to have all my blood rush to my head - which you'd think dentists would want to avoid.

As for conversations with the dentist, well, there's not much I can suggest beyond the definitive discussion of the topic. My dentist is a decent conversationalist for the most part, telling relatively innocuous stories about getting together with the relatives for holidays, trips she's taken, and so on. She does have a tendency to stray into some depressing topics. For example, after she told me about her nephew, who has leukemia and was recently contacted by the Make-a-Wish Foundation, I found I was unable to ask what kind of electric toothbrush she'd recommend.

The dentist gave me a topical anesthetic before administering the shot that would numb my jaw, and that wasn't so bad. But the hygienist jabbed me a few times with the suction tube. And I winced a couple of times as the Dremel tool (well, maybe it was something else, I don't know) seemed to find a spot that wasn't numbed up. She advised me to raise a hand if something hurt, and then most of her conversation was with the hygienist. So I laid there for about an hour with little to do but think, and that's when things got uncomfortable.

I don't get a whole lot of time for introspection. Having a family means not getting a whole lot of 'me' time, for one. I have a short drive to work, and considering how I drive, it's probably better that I focus on the road anyway. At work, I'm constantly busy and frequently interrupted. When I climb into bed at night, I'm generally not the type to toss and turn while I replay the day's events.

But in the dentist chair, I started to think about things I've procrastinated on. Lots of things at work; it's easy to get caught up in the tactical and avoid the strategic. At home, there are countless projects to be done, like replacing the railing on the porch steps. Then there's this blog; I've toyed with the idea of figuring out how much cat litter it would take to completely fill the basement, so I'd have to figure out how much space the water heater takes up. And so on.

After about an hour, the drilling stopped, and they sat me up in the chair. The dentist told me that if I felt any sharp spots on my fillings, I could contact the office on Monday. At that point, it occurred to me how foolish it was to schedule dental work before the start of the four-day Thanksgiving weekend.

When I was a kid, my parents told me that teeth were like bees: ignore them and they'll go away. That didn't have much impact on me. Maybe I can use my recent visit as a warning, but I suspect that in his lifetime, dental visits will be a bit more entertaining.

Xmas is just around the corner

No, I don't really need one. That doesn't mean I don't want one.

The Stanley FuBar.

still standing

I had been fighting a cold for weeks, and then I had a cough that just wouldn't go away. Finally my wife pestered me to see a doctor, so I went to the walk-in clinic near my office. The doc listened to my chest and then called in the X-ray tech. Turns out I had some 'crackling' in my left lung, but probably not enough to qualify as walking pneumonia - maybe more of a trotting or jogging pneumonia.

They sent me on my way with two prescriptions. One was for a bottle of cough syrup with codeine, which was far less fun than I expected. I have never tasted a worse medicine, nor have I ever had so much trouble opening the adult-proof cap.

The other was an antibiotic called Levaquin, a broad-spectrum antibiotic that would kill off anything crackly in my lungs. I just finished taking the pills, and I'm happy to say that I didn't experience any of the possible side effects indicated on the information sheet:

Nausea; diarrhea; gas; headache; dizziness; sensitivity to daylight; abdominal pain; sharp or crushing chest pain; sudden shortness of breath; sudden leg pain; sudden severe headache; vomiting; fainting; changes in vision; numbness of an arm or leg; severe stomach pain; confusion¹; tremors; restlessness; anxiety; trouble sleeping; depression or other mental or mood changes; seizures; fever; tendon, joint or muscle pain or swelling; burning, numbness, tingling, or weakness of the arms, hands, legs, or feet; abnormal changes in skin sensation (such as sense of touch, pain or temperature); irregular heartbeat; a change in the amount of urine; yellowing of the eyes or skin; allergic reactions including rash, itching, swelling, severe dizziness or trouble breathing. Or vaginal discomfort, for that matter.

¹ So far as I know.

Next time I'll just take Panexa.

the weakest link

A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to remember the name of a speaker from a conference I attended. Googling him brought up his profile on LinkedIn.com, and before I knew it, I had signed myself up just to see what it was all about. A few weeks later, and I'm still not quite sure what it's about.

Basically, you can create a profile, and make connections to other LinkedIn users. The profile can be as vague or as detailed as you'd like; most people just list current and former jobs and maybe where they went to college. Others list hobbies, interests, and then some. As for connections, you find people you know (LinkedIn will suggest other people who appear to work with you or went to school with you, etc.), and request a connection. If they accept, then you've, well, you've got a connection, which you can... er... do something with.

I think this would be valuable to someone who's looking for a new job. In my case, it's nice to see if any of the folks in my department are looking for a new job. Apparently no one is currently attempting to escape my dictatorial clutches, or they're subtle enough that I don't get it.

I have heard an ugly rumor that if you provide LinkedIn with info on, say, your Gmail account (with the idea of searching to see if anyone of your contacts is a LinkedIn member), LinkedIn will send everyone in your list an invitation purporting to be from you. I'm not risking it, since there's that chance that I could somehow piss off Kevin Bacon.

Meanwhile, unlinked.com is not accepting members at this time.

no, I really didn't

mulch ado about nothing

After talking about it for years, we finally purchased a compost bin. This is a big leap ahead of my previous method of putting weeds in a big pile behind the garage: now the pile is in a box next to the garage.

We had gotten a flyer from the city about the local recycling program; on the back page was an ad for a compost bin, available for $45. The flyer composted on a desk for a while, and then I finally purchased it online. The confirmation email said to wait a couple of days, then call to schedule a pick up time. The confirmation ended with "THE COMPOST BIN WILL FIT IN YOUR CAR."

My wife was unable to fit it in her car, so I went to pick it up. I followed a map to the location, but all I could see was a large parking lot, littered with what appeared to be either rock salt or broken glass (I preferred to think the latter, as my tires crunched a lazy circle) behind a seemingly abandoned warehouse. Another guy was just leaving the lot, then stopped, rolled down his window and asked me what I was looking for. I said I was there to pick up a compost bin, and he shrugged and said he'd help me out. I parked the car and there, behind a chain link fence topped with razor wire, was the office.

I've spent most of my working life in sterile office buildings, but a friend of mine had once worked for an environmental group. Then, as now, you can tell you're surrounded by hippies: bicycles clog the hallways, none of the office furniture matches, and there's the unmistakable smell of aging tea bags.

The bin turned out to be a bit bigger than I expected; it probably has the volume of a 55-gallon drum, which makes me think that I should have, oh, just found an old 55-gallon drum somewhere and punched holes in it. The lid clearly indicates that meat, bones and oddly, fish should not be added to the compost. So my plan to be an environmentally conscious ice fisherman/serial killer is probably a non-starter.

Speaking of, there are actually mixes that you can use to start your compost bin. I just figured I would ask my toddler to just play in the bin for a few minutes, which I think would provide all the necessary microbes. If you think that's a little strange, then you haven't considered the cult of the Biodynamic Compost Starter:

... it is both a fun and spiritually uplifting experience to actually create Biodynamic preparations oneself if taken the time to learn. ... Beyond the Cartesian thinking of scientists from a mechanistic view of the world and physical reality that thinks along the lines of traditional soil chemistry; Biodynamic preparations also looks to understand cosmic forces that might also influence the preparation of soils and humus on a non-visible or esoteric level...

Anyway, we spent a bit of time stocking the bin with leaves, grass clippings and aging jack-o-lanterns. I might throw some coffee grounds and egg shells in there now and then, further reducing our carbon footprint or whatever. If nothing else, it helps me feel a little superior to my neighbors. Hmmm... maybe I should put it in the middle of the yard where the neighbors are more likely to see it.

that damn cat

If I haven't mentioned it before, telling people that you have five cats in your house makes them think that you're crazy. We didn't plan it that way, but my wife had two, I had three, and when we moved in together, there was enough hair in the house to produce tumbleweeds.

Charlie was built for trouble: small, uniformly gray, and dangerously curious. If you left something on the countertop, Charlie would find it. If you left a door open, Charlie would be through it in a heartbeat. We only have a few hanging plants in the house because he'd chew up any flora in his reach. He'd bat at the blinds if an animal passed by the house. More than once I've threatened to make him an outdoor cat.

When our boy came home from the hospital, all our other cats kept their distance, but Charlie was the first to come within reach of Quinn's flailing arms. As Quinn grew older, Charlie would let himself be used as a pillow. When Quinn started repeating things we said, we figured 'Dammit, kitty!' would become part of his vocabulary. Next week we plan on moving the boy from his crib to a bed, and we figured Charlie would probably end up sleeping there.

Yesterday my wife got out the vacuum cleaner, which normally would prompt our cats to flee in terror. But Charlie could barely move. We realized something was wrong, and rushed him to the animal hospital. They said he was dehydrated, and they wanted to keep him overnight to get some fluids in him and draw some blood. We left, worried, but somehow knowing that Charlie would recover, and continue to be a pain in the butt for years to come.

In the morning, though, we found out that Charlie had suffered acute renal failure. We could do more tests, even look at dialysis. Given a special diet and daily shots, he might live on for a few weeks or even months, but he'd likely be in constant pain. We felt the only real option was to put him down.

So this morning we went back to the hospital to say our goodbyes. He had recovered a bit of his usual vigor; he was purring and, in typical Charlie fashion, wanted to explore the room. When the time came, Charlie went peacefully. I found myself blathering on about how the house was going to be a lot quieter without Charlie around, and the doctor was very understanding.

We're doing OK. We even joked about getting a kitten. Heck, people already think we're crazy.

do I finally understand Democrat strategy?

I've often wondered why the Democrats aren't smarter when it comes to public relations. I mean, if this is the party of liberals, isn't there someone creative in the room who can come up with a good ad campaign? Or at least some good catchphrases to counter the conservative spin machine? I mean, come on - there's so much material out there, and it seems like the Dems are unable to capitalize on it.

Lately I'm starting to wonder if the brains behind the Democratic party are smart and subtle. Have they learned enough to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past?

But I wonder if the Dems aren't doing anything, and letting the GOP destroy itself. Maybe they're just staking out airport bathrooms and adult bookstores and watching for opportunities to expose hypocrisy.

Either way, it's nice to have some hope for the next election cycle.

---

In unrelated news, came across this story about a woman who is not likely to see the inside of the White House any time soon...

CODEPINK activist Desiree Anita Ali-Fairooz was barred from Capitol Hill after she covered her hands in fake blood and approached Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice last week at the start of a congressional hearing.

I don't anything about CODEPINK, but I'm fairly certain this is not the way to be taken seriously. Hell, I can't go in the house if my hands are covered in dirt.