(Looking across the street last Saturday. (January 2, 2021))
This week’s weather has included, for the most part, dense or patchy freezing fog.
I figure the weather, and Washington news, have been affecting my mood. Or should that be “has been affecting?”
On a more objective note, we’ve had dicey driving and good photo opportunities. But not as good as last Saturday’s, with its sunshine and blue skies.
Frosted Trees
(From a window near my desk: a nice, if snug, view. (January 8, 2021))
Thanks to the previous owner’s planting preferences, a window near my desk provides a clear view of a tree’s interior.
I’m not sure what they had in mind, but I enjoy the occasional glimpse of birds or a squirrel perching, eating, or debating.
A quick check this Friday told me that freezing fog had frosted the trees’ interiors. This particular clump of trees, anyway.
It’s pretty, in a subdued sort of way.
And Bushes
(Frost on bushes outside the house. (January 8, 2021))
So is the frost that’s accumulated on bushes. We’ve had another day of freezing fog, with little wind to shake it off. That makes three foggy days in a row, so far.
I’d planned on getting a picture of the same twigs this afternoon. But something’s removed an identifiable curvy twig. Maybe the night’s and morning’s frost hid it. Or maybe I just didn’t notice it. So I took a picture of another part of the same set of bushes.
(Frost on a different part of those bushes, after a third day’s fog. (January 9, 2021))
There’s more to say about the science and beauty of freezing fog, but that will wait for another time.
Thinking about frost reminded me of rime, which reminded me of an old poem.
Oddly enough, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” isn’t an ode to fog or frost. Although the poem mentions both.1
“…At length did cross an Albatross:
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God’s name….
“…Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship’s huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red….”
(“Rime of the Ancient Mariner;” Part the First, Part the Fourth; Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1798) via ProjectGutenberg.org)
The Ancient Mariner’s troublesome voyage — is another topic, for another day. Several days, most likely. It’s a long poem.
Sound and Fury, News and Opinion
“2021 storming of the United States Capitol” may or may not stick as a name for whatever happened last Wednesday. I’m even less certain about what actually happened.
Judging from what I’ve seen in the news, several people were killed in or near the building housing America’s Congress. This happened on January 6, 2021.
At least one of Wednesday’s dead may have been an alleged attacker or rioter.
Assuming that all this is at least partly true, something bad seems to have happened in my nation’s capital.
But I don’t know nearly enough to have a reasoned opinion about what happened. Not in any detail. Much less who is responsible and to what extent.
America’s traditional news media asserts that the attackers — or rioters — support America’s president. And that America’s president is directly or indirectly responsible for their actions.
Again, I don’t know what happened. Or who arranged the incident.
I’m just summarizing what I see in my country’s traditional news media.
Aside from several deaths, a significant result of the attack was an uncharacteristically prompt show of legislative support for the chap who ran against the president in our recent election. Apparently. But I haven’t heard or read much about that action recently.
Other possibly-significant results include at least two social media services banning the American president. And, maybe, the start of a renewed and urgent discussion of restrictions for non-traditional news services.
I gather that these actions are intended to defend democracy. By silencing folks who lack sufficient enthusiasm for my country’s proper rulers.
Not that anyone’s been quite that blunt about it.
Emotions, Freedom and Viewpoints
I’m upset, worried and angry about what happened on Wednesday.
I’d be much more upset, worried and angry if I didn’t remember my ‘good old days.’
My teens almost exactly overlap the Sixties.
I think ‘the establishment’ of those days sincerely believed that they were defending America, democracy and freedom. And, thinking back on what was happening, I figure many of them were frightened. Terrified.
Their world was changing. Science and technology weren’t solving every problem.
The nation’s youth seemed ill-suited for their assigned role as torchbearers for liberty, conformity and suburban living. If that sounds familiar, it should. I said pretty much the same thing a couple years back. (May 12, 2018)
I was nowhere near the craziest of ‘those crazy kids.’ But I wasn’t willing to support the status quo then, or to try believing that “freedom” means “free to agree with me.”
A half-century later, ‘the establishment’ has different viewpoints, slogans and preferences. And, I very strongly suspect, they are driven by the same fervor for freedom: freedom to agree with them.
Change happens. It was happening in the Sixties. It’s happening now. And change can be a good thing.
Making Sense
I don’t like what I’m seeing in America’s old-school news. And I take what I see in any media with at least a crate of salt. Sometimes a barge.
As I said before, I have nowhere near enough reliable information to form a reasoned opinion about Wednesday’s killings and other events in my nation’s capital.
And as if Washington’s more-than-usually daft shenanigans weren’t enough, COVID-19 precautions now preclude singing during Mass, at least by the congregation. I most emphatically don’t like that.
But I’m quite sure that ranting won’t help anything or anyone. Me, least of all. And letting anger morph into hatred for individuals or groups would be worse.
Instead, I’ll talk about feelings and something I think is a good idea.
Feeling, thinking and Deciding
Antics of the frighteningly fervent faithful aren’t, I think, reasonable.
But faith and reason do get along. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 35, 154-159)
If I use the brains God gave me.
That’s an option, not a requirement.
Nothing forces me to think about what I believe, wonder why I believe it, or what I should do because I believe it.
Like every other human, I’m a “rational animal.” (Catechism, 1951)
I can make decisions based on reason rather than how I’m feeling.
But I don’t have to. I also have free will. (Catechism, 1730, 1778, 1804, 2339)
Letting emotions and impulses guide may be easier than thinking, But my experience suggests that I’m better off if I think before I act.
Emotions are part of being human, too: part of a package that’s “very good.” An emotion isn’t “good” or “bad” by itself. What matters is what and how I think about the emotion, and what I decide to do about it. (Genesis 1:27–31; Catechism, 1763, 1767)
What I feel, think and do should continually honor and obey God. (Catechism, 1770)
They’re not, I don’t, and that’s yet another topic.
A couple more points, and I’ll move on.
The fundamental emotion is love: the love that urges us to help others. (Catechism, 1767, 2534-2550)
That sort of love is a good idea.
Obviously — or maybe not so much — I shouldn’t do something bad because I want to help someone. The end doesn’t justify the means. (Catechism, 1753, 1789)
“…’I join people of good will in condemning the violence today at the United States Capitol. This is not who we are as Americans. I am praying for members of Congress and Capitol staff and for the police and all those working to restore order and public safety….
“…I entrust all of us to the heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary. May she guide us in the ways of peace, and obtain for us wisdom and the grace of a true patriotism and love of country.'”
I also think that staying calm is a good idea. Even if it is challenging.
‘I Think That I Shall Never See, A Poem Frosty as a Tree’
(Friday: a serene, or dreary, day. Depending on viewpoint. (January 8, 2021))
“Frosty as a tree?” That’s not how the poem goes:
“Trees”
Joyce Kilmer (1913)
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree….”
I’d planned on finishing this post on Saturday. Since I’m running out of Saturday, this is a good place to stop.
Besides, I’ve talked about the principles presently in play before:
Christopher Marlowe’s play, I mean, not Johann Georg Faust.
J. G. Faust lived five centuries back. Give or take a bit. Extracting his biography from folk legends, chapbooks and assorted other retellings? I’ll leave that for someone else.
I haven’t read or discussed “Faustus,” since 2012. So I’ll be rereading the play, looking what I wrote then, thinking about it and sharing the results. Together with whatever else comes to mind as I go along.
“…A Sound Magician is as a Mighty God…”
I’ll say this for Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus. He had high self-esteem:
All things that move between the quiet poles
Shall be at my command: emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several provinces,
Nor can they raise the wind, or rend the clouds;
But his dominion that exceeds in this,
Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man;
A sound magician is a mighty god:
Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.
(“Faustus,” Marlowe (1604) Edited by The Rev. Alexander Dyce)
I figure “hubris” is more accurate. Along with unreasonable expectations.
Marlowe’s “Dr. Faustus” involves hearty helpings of magic and science: as presented in Elizabethan theater. Since I’m not an Elizabethan Englishman, I’d better talk about how I see magic and all that.
“Magic?”
(From Stanley De Brath, John Lobb; via Wikimedia Commons; used w/o permission.)
(Left, “Supernormal Portrait” taken at the British College of Psychic Science (1924);
right, alleged spirit photography by Thomas Everitt (1909).)
I think magic is a bad idea. And I think magic is harmless entertainment. Or it’s unfamiliar technology. Or something exciting, like “Disney on Ice.”
Which definition applies depends on context. And who’s talking.
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
(A. C. Clarke’s Third Law (ca. 1962))
“…’For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe: though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel.’…”
(“The Fellowship of the Ring,” J. R. Tolkien (1954))
“Faustus.…How pliant is this Mephistophilis,
Full of obedience and humility!
Such is the force of magic and my spells:
No, Faustus, thou art conjuror laureat,
That canst command great Mephistophilis:
Quin regis Mephistophilis fratris imagine.”
(“Faustus,” Marlowe (1604) Edited by The Rev. Alexander Dyce)
Definitions
One person’s “sufficiently advanced technology” might be another’s word processor and spreadsheet.
I suspect that uneven distribution of IT skills contributes to my culture’s technophobic undercurrents.
That, and the steep learning curve we’ve been on since upgrades of Edmund Cartwright’s power loom destabilized the weaving industry.
Magic that’s harmless entertainment includes sleight of hand and levitation illusions: the sort of thing Howard Thurston did.1
I’m not sure why his promotional art showed him getting Mephistophelian assistance. Cincinnati’s Strobridge Lithograph company made that “Mr. Kellar Says” poster in 1910.
My guess is that Howard Thurston was appealing to America’s taste for seances, spirit photographs and the like. I wouldn’t be comfortable with his marketing strategy, but I’m not a stage magician trying to make a living.
Sleight of hand, card tricks, prestidigitation and Otis Elevator technology isn’t the sort of magic I think is a bad idea.
Neither is prayer. That might take some explaining.
Prayer isn’t Magic
Prayer is part of being Catholic. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2558-2565, 256-2567, 2568-2589, …)
Some of my regular prayers, like the Divine Mercy chaplet,2 involve saying the same words each time.
But the Divine Mercy chaplet isn’t magic.
I’m not making something happen by performing a set ritual. And I’m sure not making God do anything. If I thought that’s what I was doing, I’d be believing in “magic,” superstition. And that would be a bad idea. (Catechism, 2111)
With the Divine Mercy chaplet, I’m asking God to “have mercy on us and on the whole world:” so it’s an intercessory prayer. Or maybe a prayer of petition, since I’m included in “us” and “the whole world.”
Intercession and petition are two of the five varieties of prayer, along with blessing and adoration, thanksgiving and praise. (Catechism, 2623-2643)
I talked about that last August, in connection with the blast in Beirut. (August 11, 2020)
I figure the Divine Mercy chaplet is a prayer of meditation and contemplation, too; and that’s another topic. Topics.
Reality and Reputation
Tales grow in the telling. Someone said that first, I have no idea who. I figure the idea, if not the exact words, was ancient beyond measure when Sneferu didn’t quite make the first smooth pyramid.
Here are two real people whose biographies became — embroidered.
Albertus Magnus: Posthumous Reputation Based (Loosely) on Actual Events
(From Chemical Heritage Foundation, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.
(Albertus Magnus: featured on a 1929 trading card.)
Backing up a bit, technology isn’t bad, or good, by itself. Neither is science. Each of us decides how we use knowledge and tools. Whether they help or hurt depends on us. (Catechism, 2292-2295)
Technology isn’t “magic,” except in a metaphorical sense. And neither is science.
That didn’t keep St. Albertus Magnus from getting a posthumous reputation for practicing magic. And alchemy.
The “alchemy” prestige, or maybe notoriety, was ‘based on actual events.’
Albertus Magnus studied alchemy: the sort that got rebranded as “chemistry” a few centuries later. (October 18, 2018; January 12, 2018)
I very strongly suspect that tales about Albertus Magnus getting help from rogue spirits reflect an uneasiness regarding study of the natural world.
I’ve talked about that before, and will again.
St. Albertus Magnus was a natural philosopher, the sort we started calling “scientists” after William Whewell’s 1834 book review. (July 20, 2019)
The Albertus Magnus in European tall tales is mostly fiction. But St. Albertus Magus was and is real.3
And that, finally, gets me back to “Dr. Faustus.”
“Dr. Faustus:” Based on Actual Stories
Marlowe’s Faustus is fiction. But “Dr. Fausus” is based, loosely, on a real person.
Johann Georg Faust lived, bamboozled and died around 1500. Part of his stock in trade was posing as a magician and/or alchemist.
Think of him as a German Renaissance bunco artist.
He enjoyed a measure of success until someone or something wrung his neck.
Lurid tales of J. G. Faust’s alleged Satanic connections and wretched end eventually inspired Christopher Marlowe’s “The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus.”
Faust’s fictional fame didn’t end there. Marlowe wrote his “Dr. Faustus” in 1590, give or take a couple years.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe started writing “Urfaust” between 1772 and 1775. By 1831 he’d finished “Faust. Eine Tragödie” and “Faust. Der Tragödie zweiter Teil in fünf Akten:” “Faust Part One” and “Faust Part Two.”
There’s been no shortage of Faust reboots since then.4 Highlights include:
Irving’s 1824 “The Devil and Tom Walker”
Wilde’s 1891 “The Picture of Dorian Gray”
Mann’s 1947 “Faust” novel
Will The Real Christopher Shakespeare Tudor Please Stand Up?
Don’t get me wrong. I think there’s value in scholarship and academic studies.
One of my kids said that at heart I’m a scholar and a philosopher: and she’s right. She also said I’m eccentric. She’s right about that, too, and that’s yet another topic.
Maybe my respect for scholarship is why I’ve got a short fuse when it comes to academia’s occasional digressions into weirdness.
Christopher Marlowe
Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare were both baptized in 1564.
Shakespeare signed his will and died in 1616.
Christopher Marlowe died in 1593, probably from a stab wound which may or may not have been immediately fatal.
And/or Marlowe was struck down by the wrath of God, with a naughty servant as a vengeful deity’s agent.
Applying 21st century forensic science to the question may be tricky.
Marlowe’s grave is unmarked. That may or may not be due to his death being an assassination ordered by the Queen. Or Sir Walter Raleigh. Maybe some other VIP arranged Marlowe’s demise.
Make that alleged demise. Marlowe-themed alternate histories abound. Maybe Marlowe’s death was faked: the playwright’s way of surviving accusations of atheism. And/or maybe his way of retiring quietly.
“Alternate histories” isn’t quite correct in this context. Scholarly discussions of what ‘really’ happened to Marlowe apparently assume that the ‘what-if’ versions are real.
Oddly enough, I haven’t run across claims that Marlowe’s death was faked by Shakespeare, who had been using “Marlowe” as a nom de plume and/or alter ego.
On the other hand, saying that Marlowe wrote Shakespeare and/or was a secret agent for her majesty have both been in vogue.
And I can see why. “‘Marlowe. Christopher Marlowe,’ said Agent 00¾,” sounds cool.
I don’t know if “everybody wrote Shakespeare except Shakespeare” is still in fashion. My guess is that the notion’s popularity has peaked. Learned statements that Marlowe was homosexual and/or an Elizabethan spy are apparently still current.5
Maybe he was both or either. I take efforts to define someone living in the late 16th century by standards of the 20th and 21st — with a few crates of salt.
But I won’t let that stop me from adding my splinter to the weirdness.
Marlowe Didn’t Write Shakespeare — Marlowe IS Shakespeare!!!
I don’t believe this, but think about it: Marlowe and Shakespeare were (allegedly) baptized the same year. They both lived in England. Both were playwrights.
They even look alike! Same eyebrows, pretty much the same chin.
It’s so obvious! Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare are the same person!!!
Or maybe this sounds less implausible —
Marlowe went to college. Shakespeare didn’t. (That’s real. I’m making up what’s next.)
They both wanted to write plays, but Bill was the one with talent.
Marlowe, on the other hand, had high-society connections. Bill didn’t.
So Chris hired Bill as a ghostwriter, cadging cash from his upper crust buddies.
That went on for years, until Bill got famous and Chris welshed on a loan. Then C. Marlowe was killed, or skipped town, and B. Shakespeare became even more famous.
Or Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare were really Queen Elizabeth, who let off steam by dressing up as a playwright. And she had both alter egoes “killed” when folks started asking questions.
No, I really do not believe that.
But after reading enough learned ‘what really happened and who was really what’ papers, I feel like letting off steam. Or, in this case, sharing wildly-improbable nonsense.
Times Change
(From Sotheby’s, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Procession portrait of Elizabeth I of England with her Knights of the Garter. (ca. 1601))
Elizabethan England: a golden age when wisdom ruled and men wore tights.
Life was good for Englishmen. Provided that they didn’t offend their betters and weren’t accused of being insufficiently Protestant.
England’s Elizabeth I inherited Henry VIII’s acquired wealth and lack of living critics.6 Comparative lack, anyway.
Four and one fifth centuries later, England’s upper crust wear loose trousers and don’t vie for a chance to carry the queen on their shoulders.
Times, clothing and customs change. Human nature, not so much.
Which is, I figure, why Marlowe’s “Dr Faustus” enjoys the occasional revival.
Despite, or maybe because of, lines like these:
“Chorus.…Excelling all whose sweet delight disputes
In heavenly matters of theology;
Till swoln with cunning, of a self-conceit,
His waxen wings did mount above his reach,
And, melting, heavens conspir’d his overthrow;
For, falling to a devilish exercise,
And glutted now with learning’s golden gifts,
He surfeits upon cursed necromancy;
Nothing so sweet as magic is to him,
Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss:
And this the man that in his study sits.”
(“Faustus,” Marlowe (1604) Edited by The Rev. Alexander Dyce)
I’ve got more to say about Marlowe’s “Faustus,” but that will wait for another day.
I may have gotten an hour’s sleep Friday night. That’s a best-case scenario.
That much insomnia, on top of two previous nights with less than normal sleep, left me feeling pretty good. But not clear-headed enough to try writing. Not the sort of writing that involves much thinking, at any rate.
So I relaxed, read part of John Dickson Carr’s “The Mad Hatter Mystery,” and got a few photos ready for sharing.
Happy New Year! Freezing Fog, Frosted Trees
(Morning after a freezing fog, looking across our back yard. (January 2, 2021))
Much of Minnesota had freezing fog Friday night. That’s not good news for travelers, but often leaves frosted trees. And, in our back yard, frosted plastic mesh.
The fog was more or less gone by mid-morning, or had lifted enough to become a low overcast. Either way, Saturday morning had subdued scenery.
(Our creche/nativity scene. (January 2, 2021))
My son made our nativity scene’s stable. The figures were my wife’s father’s father’s, and now they’re with us.
Tomorrow is Epiphany Sunday, so the Magi are still on their way to the stable in our household’s scene. Epiphany Sunday isn’t mainly about the Magi.
That’s something I’ve talked about before and probably will again. But not now. The Epiphany involves too many ideas for my temporarily fogbound brain.
It’s been a calm day, wind-wise. That gave me opportunity to take one of my favorite kind of winter picture: frosted trees. Above, you’re looking across our back yard to several others on this side of the block.
(Just a little after noon. Frosted trees. (January 2, 2021))
It’s now Saturday evening.
Epiphany Sunday is ahead. But first, I trust, I’ll get a good night’s sleep.
And I nearly forgot. I’ve talked about Epiphany Sunday and possibly-related topics before:
Today is New Year’s Eve. It’s also Saint Sylvester’s Day, the 420th anniversary of the British East India Company’s charter and the 141st anniversary of Thomas Edison’s incandescent light demo.
But mainly, I figure, for most Americans, today is New Year’s Eve.
The day before and day of a new year is a big deal for folks around the world. Which moment marks the start of a new annual cycle varies, depending on where and who you are.
My New Year’s Eve is the day I call December 31. It’s a little after Earth’s northern hemisphere winter solstice. Many folks in east Asia start a new year a month or two after that solstice.
Hardly anyone celebrates Akitu any more, and that’s another topic.1 Almost.
The Times Square Ball: Beacon Above an Unsquare Square
There’s been a New Year’s Eve street party in New York City’s Times Square at least since December 31, 1907. That’s when The New York Times raised and dropped a big ball atop 1475 Broadway, AKA One Times Square.
The big ball drop has ended New Year’s Eve and started the new year ever since.
Most New Year’s Eves, anyway. World War II affected 1942’s and 1943’s street parties. The ball drop didn’t happen those years. Lighting a beacon over New York City for the convenience of German submarine commanders seemed inadvisable.
But the 20th century’s global war — I think of WW I and II as two phases of one conflict, and that’s yet another topic — is over now and hadn’t started in 1907.
The idea behind the 1907 ball drop was drawing attention to 1475 Broadway: headquarters of The New York Times since 1904.
Times Square was Longacre Square at the time. It was and is a stretched hourglass of pavement where Broadway and 7th Avenue overlap, between West 42nd and 47th Streets.
And there you have it, a town square —
Shaped like a bow tie.
Named after a newspaper that started moving out of the square’s most famous building around 1912.
With a high-tech time ball mounted on a largely-unoccupied office building that’s mainly a place to put advertising billboards. Big ones. Several of them digital.2
NYE 2021 and COVID-19
This year’s Times Square party will be different —
“Every year as the clock nears midnight on December 31, the eyes of the world turn once more to the dazzling lights and bustling energy of Times Square. Anticipation runs high….
“…Due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, NYE 2021 will NOT be open to the public this year — but there will be live performances, and we hope all of you will enjoy the virtual celebrations safely from the comfort of your own home….”
— But not so much for me.
I’ve never been to New York City. But I’ve dropped in on the Times Square New Year’s Eve street party rather often. Thanks to the Internet and living one time zone west of the Big Apple, I can be virtually there, and still get to sleep at a moderately reasonable hour.
I plan to virtually visit the Big Apple again this year. Even though the Waldorf Astoria Hotel has long since stopped hosting Guy Lombardo. I’ll get back to that, and how I see traditions with a lower case “t.”
New Traditions
Singing John Lennon’s “Imagine” before the ball drop has been a Times Square tradition since 2005.
Maybe, if 2021 maintains 2020’s momentum, Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” will become another tradition.
“…Andra Day … will continue the New Year’s Eve tradition of singing John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ just before the Ball Drop. … Gloria Gaynor will be performing her classic, and very appropriate, hit ‘I Will Survive’ on New Year’s Eve, along with two other songs….”
(“Times Square New Year’s Eve 2021,” (Times Square NYC (2020))
“…I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key
If I’d known for just one second you’d be back to bother me…
“…I’ve got all my life to live
And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive
I will survive, hey, hey….”
(“I Will Survive,” Gloria Gaynor (1978) via lyrics.com)
Lyrics, Conventional and Otherwise
Either way, I suspect that “Imagine” lyrics will be Lennon’s own this year. I suspect the party planners don’t want a repeat of Cee Lo Green’s 2012 rendition.
“The lyrics of John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ are well-known to generations of fans, and when Cee Lo Green changed them while performing in New York’s Times Square on New Year’s Eve, not everyone took it well.
“Instead of singing ‘Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too,’ Green instead sang, ‘Nothing to kill or die for, and all religion’s true.’…”
“…Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace….”
John Lennon, “Imagine” (1971) via oldielyrics.com)
I’m not overly fond of either Lennon’s “no religion too” or Green’s “all religion’s true.”
But I think Green’s lyric is closer to the mark.
Respect and Love
I’m a Catholic. I wouldn’t be Catholic if I didn’t think the Church was operating under our Lord’s authority.
But because I am a Catholic, I must acknowledge that other religions seek and have found facets of truth. And I should treat folks who don’t believe as I do with respect, love, prudence and patience. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 839–848, 2104)
That is not, putting it mildly, easy. I live in a country where an endemic version of Christianity views Catholicism and Catholics as a threat to all that they hold dear. (December 19, 2020)
They’ve got a point, since many — most — Catholics aren’t Americans. And those of us who are Americans often have insufficiently English ancestors. And I’m drifting off-topic.
Instead of fretting over “no religion too” or “all religion’s true,” I prefer focusing on “Living life in peace.”
Our Traditions aren’t Tradition
Which sound nice: particularly after a year of political ranting, the Floyd riots and weirdness inspired by the COVID-19 pandemic. (July 11, 2020; June 28, 2020; March 31, 2020)
I’m forgetting something. Let me think. Saint Sylvester and Thomas Edison. Akitu and digital billboards. The Beatles and living life in peace. Right.
Singing “Imagine” just before a whacking great high-tech disco ball descends is a tradition. So is getting together to hear the song and making noise as the Times Square Ball goes down.
Those are traditions with a lower-case “t.”
I like some traditions.
I miss a few that have ended, like listening to Guy Lombardo on New Year’s Eve. He’s a musician and band leader who flourished from the late 1920s to the mid 1970s..3 Hearing a contemporary pop star belt out “Imagine” just isn’t the same.
But traditions don’t last forever.
That gives some folks conniptions. One of the blessings, perhaps, of 2020’s COVID-19 pandemic and election politics is that “traditional Catholics” haven’t been in the spotlight.
They’re folks who, over-simplifying the situation, believe that the Catholic Church hasn’t been Catholic since the 1960s.
Yesteryearning
I wasn’t a Catholic before Vatican II, and missed my opportunity to learn — incorrectly — that a local parish’s customs were the immutable laws of the Catholic Church.
“In the spirit of Vatican II” nonsense didn’t help tight-collar Catholics stay calm.
I like some of my parish’s traditions, like that big evergreen we have near the altar each Christmas season. But I understand that our local and regional traditions aren’t the Church’s Tradition: a living body of knowledge and wisdom, passed along from the Apostles.
That, the Bible and Magisterium — are topics that I’ve discussed before, and will again. But not today. (March 4, 2018)
For Auld Lang Syne
(Dik Browne’s “Hagar the Horrible” (February 25, 1973))
As 2020 draws to a close I find myself waxing nostalgic. Which is nothing like waxing my mustache, something I’ve never done.
Two or three more points, and I’m done. For now, that is.
First, about “I imagine we will survive.”
This has been a stressful year.
I don’t like any election year’s sound and fury, and enjoyed 2020’s even less.
The COVID-19 pandemic isn’t as bad as the Black Death. But it hasn’t been fun. At all.
But I think, paraphrasing that Gloria Gaynor song, we will survive. And, perhaps more important, I hope we do. And I hope my family and I do, too.
Second, I think there’s wisdom in remembering our past. Including the pleasant parts.
I remember the good old days when I watched Guy Lombardo’s final New Year’s Eve broadcasts.
And I look ahead to the days when folks will fondly recall their rosy memories of Gloria Gaynor, Cee Lo Green and chatbots.
Finally, here’s a bit of verse:
“…For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne….”
(“Auld Lang Syne,” Bard of Ayrshire (1788))
There’s more to say, but for the most part I’ve said it before:
I’m seeing “The Best of,” “Top 10” and “2020 Top” headlines in my news feed: as usual for late December.
Instead of waiting for someone else to highlight this year’s science news stories, I’m making my own ‘top 10’ list. Each item is something that caught my attention, seemed important, or has been lurking in my ‘to do’ folders.
But that’s not why Earth’s wandering poles made my top 10 science stories.
What’s noteworthy about geomagnetic reversal in 2020 is —
The Curious Incident of the Apocalyptic Headlines
“…’Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?’
“‘To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.’
“‘The dog did nothing in the night-time.’
“‘That was the curious incident,’ remarked Sherlock Holmes….”
(“Silver Blaze,” “The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.” Arthur Conan Doyle (1892) [emphasis mine])
What’s odd about the 2020 geomagnetic apocalypse headlines is that there weren’t any.
Maybe I missed them. Or maybe the COVID-19 pandemic gave journalists and editors juicier ‘we’ll all die’ material.
Either way, I figure we’ll eventually see retreads of yesteryear’s “sparking chaos … Mayan apocalypse” nuggets. Topically updated, of course:
9. NASA Finds 300,000 (Potentially) Habitable Planets!
(From Bryson, Kunimoto, Kopparapu and all; used w/o permission.)
(Habitable zone flux range and orbital periods for G, K, and F stars.)
My hat’s off to CNN’s Jessie Yeung, for putting “potentially” in the headline. And including links to a NASA/Ames press release and a 40-plus page research paper.
Bryson, Zamudio and all didn’t find 300,000 Earth-like planets. They did, however, study the Kepler DR25 planet candidate catalog and Gaia-based stellar properties.
We’re still sifting through Kepler space telescope data. Maybe scientists have found all there is to be found there. But I doubt it.
Getting back to those 300,000 potential ‘Earths’ — We’ve found a bit upward of 5,000 exoplanet candidates and 2,500-plus confirmed exoplanets.
Bryson, Zamudio and team’s estimate of planets like ours orbiting stars like ours is just that: an estimate. It’s based on what’s in the Kepler search space. And is a low-end estimate, the scientists say. It’s still worth noting. Which is why it’s on my list.
How many rocky and roughly Earth-size planets have an atmosphere, and water, and life? That’s another question.2
8. Arecibo Radio Telescope: Instrument Platform Cables Snap
“A capsule carrying the materials landed in Inner Mongolia at 01:59 local time on Thursday (17:59 GMT, Wednesday).
“It’s more than 40 years since the American Apollo and Soviet Luna missions brought their samples home.
“The new specimens should provide fresh insight on the geology and early history of Earth’s satellite….”
The Chang’e-5 capsule’s successful return is a big deal for China’s space program. It’s also a big deal for scientists studying Earth’s moon. We haven’t had fresh samples in decades.4
But I put this in my top-10 list’s lower half because it’s an “again” item, not a “first.”
6. TESS & Red Dwarfs: Beware the Superflares!
(From S. Wiessinger/GSFC/NASA, used w/o permission.)
(Thar she blows! Artist’s impression of a flaring red dwarf star.)
“Ultraviolet light from giant stellar flares can destroy a planet’s habitability. New research from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill will help astrobiologists understand how much radiation planets experience during super flares and whether life could exist on worlds beyond our solar system.
“Super flares are bursts of energy that are 10 to 1,000 times larger than the biggest flares from the Earth’s sun. These flares can bathe a planet in an amount of ultraviolet light huge enough to doom the chances of life surviving there.
“Researchers from UNC-Chapel Hill have for the first time measured the temperature of a large sample of super flares from stars, and the flares’ likely ultraviolet emissions….”
“Superflares and the Habitability of Planets”
“Data from TESS helps researchers understand planetary habitability”
Aaron Gronstal, NASA Goddard, Research Highlight, Astrobiology at NASA (October 8, 2020)
“Data from NASA’s Transiting Exoplanet Survey Satellite (TESS) is helping researchers understand how stellar flares can affect the habitability of planets. Flares occur when bursts of energy are released from stars, and they can vary greatly in magnitude. The recent study looks at extremely large events known as super flares, which can be 10 to 1000 times larger that any flares we see from the Sun….”
I see the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill research as an example of what’s possible when larger data sets are available.
It’s also another piece of the ‘is there life out there?’ puzzle.
Life and Red Dwarfs: Still Learning the Odds
Informed opinion on the odds of life on planets orbiting red dwarf stars keeps changing.5
A few decades back, chances seemed slim-to-impossible.
Red dwarfs are very cool. To be Earth’s temperature, a planet would have to be closer to its star than Mercury is to ours.
Then we found systems like TRAPPIST-1, with one planet dead-center in the star’s habitable zone, plus one each on the zone’s inner and outer edges. And we learned that smaller stars often have planets in smaller orbits than the Solar System’s.
Habitability for red dwarf planets looked hopeful.
Until scientists started studying what happens when red dwarf stars flare. Their flares are often about as strong as our star’s. But since habitable planets would be much closer to the action, they’d get a bigger jolt of UV, X-ray and other radiation.
Some studies showed that red dwarf flares wouldn’t just give critters on habitable-zone planets lethal sunburn. Given time, they’d blow the planet’s atmosphere away.
Unless, maybe, an Earth-like planet’s magnetic field could shield its atmosphere. And, again maybe, the flares weren’t “super.”
Then again, the UNC-CH study says the super flares last maybe five to 15 minutes.
That’s a lot of “maybes.”
All of which affect habitability. Probably. Then there’s the difference between ‘habitable,’ ‘comfortable,’ and ‘ideal vacation destination.’
I wouldn’t want to be standing on a beach on a hypothetical red dwarf’s Earth-like planet when a superflare happened. Assuming that the beach is on the planet’s ‘day’ side.
But maybe critters living below the water’s surface wouldn’t mind. Assuming that there were critters there.
My guess is that we have a very great deal left to learn about life, the universe and all that.
5. Three New Worlds: TOI 700 d, KOI 456.04 and Proxima c
(From Natalie Batalha and Wendy Stenzel, via NASA/Ames Research Center, used w/o permission.)
(Exoplanets, charted by radius and orbital period. (2017))
Before 1992, the only known planets orbited our star.
Not quite three decades later, we’ve spotted nearly 5,000 worlds orbiting thousands of other stars. And hundreds of stars with more than one known planet.
Most of the newly-discovered planets and planetary systems aren’t what we expected. But we’ve found a few near-matches to Jupiter and Neptune.
And a few worlds that are almost, but not quite, like Earth.6
TOI 700 d
(From NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center, used w/o permission.) (TOI 700 d, as imagined by an artist, and the TOI 700 planetary system.)
“About 100 light-years away … in the constellation Dorado … TOI 700 d (illustrated here), the first Earth-size habitable-zone planet discovered by TESS….”
“NASA’s Transiting Exoplanet Survey Satellite (TESS) has discovered its first Earth-size planet in its star’s habitable zone…. Scientists confirmed the find, called TOI 700 d, using NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope and have modeled the planet’s potential environments to help inform future observations.
“TOI 700 d is one of only a few Earth-size planets discovered in a star’s habitable zone so far. Others include several planets in the TRAPPIST-1 system and other worlds discovered by NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope….”
The artist’s picture of TOI 700 d assumes that there’s air and water there.
That’s probable. The planet’s density is around 5.6 grams per cubic centimeter, while Earth’s is 5.514 g/cm3.
But we don’t know how probable. Best estimates for TOI 700 d’s diameter and mass have considerable margins of error. The world might be mostly water or have no surface water. It may or may not have an atmosphere.
If our best estimates for TOI 700 d’s diameter and mass are spot-on, it could have a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, an ocean and photosynthetic critters exhaling oxygen.
In that sense, it would be Earth-like.
But at 1.9 times — nearly twice — Earth’s diameter, TOI 700 d’s surface gravity would be nearly double Earth’s
That’s probably not what most folks would think of as Earth 2.0.
But jumbo supersize almost-Earths may be common. We’re finding quite a few.
“Among the more than 4,000 known exoplanets, KOI-456.04 is something special: less than twice the size of Earth, it orbits a Sun-like star. And it does so with a star-planet distance that could permit planetary surface temperatures conducive to life. The object was discovered by a team led by the Max Planck Institute for Solar System Research in Göttingen….
“… ‘The full picture of habitability, however, involves a look at the qualities of the star too’, explains MPS scientist and lead author of the new study Dr. René Heller. So far, almost all exoplanets less than twice the size of Earth that have a potential for clement surface temperatures are in orbit around a red dwarf….”
I’m pretty sure someone translated this article into English. That might explain the lead paragraph’s potentially-misleading thumbnail sketch of stellar classification.
“…Kepler-160, actually emits visible light; the central stars of almost all other exoplanets, on the other hand, emit infrared radiation, are smaller and fainter than the Sun and therefore belong to the class of red dwarf stars….” Dr Birgit Krummheuer, Dr. René Heller; Max-Planck-Gesellschaft (June 4, 2020)
Red dwarf stars do emit infrared radiation. And they are smaller and fainter than our star.
But our star and Kepler-160 emit infrared radiation, too.
Our sun is hotter than red dwarf stars, around 5,700 K, 9,800 °F, so its emission spectrum peaks at 580 nm, give or take.
Red dwarf temperatures range from 2,300K to 3,800 K. That’s 3680 °F to 6380 °F. They emit a greater fraction of their energy in the infrared zone: electromagnetic (EM) radiation from 700 nanometers to 1 millimeter.
Again, these cool stars do emit visible light. EM radiation our eyes detect, that is. Their visible light peaks near the visible spectrum’s red end.
With surface temperatures very roughly 2,700 K, 4,400 °F, they’re very roughly the temperature and color of a ‘warm’ LED or incandescent bulb. (April 21, 2017; July 29, 2016)
But even ultra-cool red dwarfs like TRAPPPIST-1 wouldn’t look as emphatically red as most artistic depictions make them.
One more thing. Although KOI 456.04 is almost certainly a planet orbiting Kepler-160, its existence hasn’t been confirmed yet.
“A Potential for Clement Surface Temperatures”
Red dwarfs, the coolest ones at any rate, emit most of their energy in the infrared.
But since they’re really small and don’t emit much energy of any sort, their habitable zone is very small.
I think it’s remarkable that we’ve found so many rocky planets at around the right distance for liquid water. And an atmosphere like ours.
That may mean that we’ll find a great many worlds supporting life.
Or that we’ll only find life on planets like Earth orbiting stars like our sun.
Or maybe there isn’t life anywhere but Earth.
In my considered opinion, we don’t know. Not yet.
Proxima Centauri
(From Michele Diodati/Medium, via EarthSky, used w/o permission.)
(Artist’s concept of Proxima Centauri and its two known planets.)
“Just a few days ago, scientists announced that the closest known Earth-sized exoplanet, Proxima Centauri b, had been confirmed to orbit the nearest star to our solar system. That’s an exciting development, but now, as scientists announced on June 2, 2020, it seems that another possible planet around the same star also has been verified … Proxima Centauri c! Both planets are only 4.2 light-years away.
“…Evidence for Proxima Centauri c was first announced earlier this year by a research group led by Mario Damasso of Italy’s National Institute for Astrophysics (INAF). But the evidence wasn’t conclusive. This second planet for Proxima is apparently a lot larger than Earth and orbits its star every 1,907 days. It orbits at about 1.5 times the distance from its star that Earth orbits from the sun. Not an extreme difference, but Proxima Centauri is a red dwarf star, smaller and cooler than our sun, so at that distance, the planet can be expected to be significantly colder than Earth…..”
The last I checked, scientists figure Proxima Centauri c is a super-Earth or a mini-Neptune. Either way, it nowhere near as warm as our world. Unless its getting heat from something other than its star. Which seems unlikely at this point.
On the other hand – – –
An Odd Signal
(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)
“Alien Hunters Discover Mysterious Signal from Proxima Centauri”
Strange radio transmissions appear to be coming from our nearest star system; now scientists are trying to work out what is sending them
Jonathan O’Callaghan, Lee Billings; Scientific American (December 18, 2020)
“Found this autumn in archival data gathered last year, the signal appears to emanate from the direction of our neighboring star and cannot yet be dismissed as Earth-based interference, raising the very faint prospect that it is a transmission from some form of advanced extraterrestrial intelligence (ETI)—a so-called ‘technosignature.’ Now, speaking to Scientific American, the scientists behind the discovery caution there is still much work to be done, but admit the interest is justified. ‘It has some particular properties that caused it to pass many of our checks, and we cannot yet explain it,’ says Andrew Siemion from the University of California, Berkeley….”
For starters, and mostly, the radio emission is along a narrow band and peaks at 982 megahertz. That’s a wavelength of 30.5 centimeters, if I did the conversion right.
Our satellite and spacecraft communications don’t generally use that frequency. So if it’s artificial, it’s almost certainly not from one of our explorers.
Assertions, Assumptions and Uncertainty
But if my memory serves, 982 megahertz isn’t one of the wavelengths folks have said space aliens would use.
That’s either a point against the Proxima signal being artificial. Or, at least as likely, a conclusion based on an arguably-ungrounded assumption.
Informed speculation that extraterrestrial intelligence would use particular parts of the microwave spectrum are just that: informed speculation. I think C. H. Townes is right: “…considerable uncertainty must remain.”
Many serious discussions of SETI assume that we may have neighbors. That if so, everybody’s as chatty as we are. And that they would use modulated radio waves for moderate- to long-range communication.
Just like we have. For the last century.
And that they’re either close enough for us to pick up their broadcasts, or that they’re sending signals directly to us.
That’s a lot of assumptions.
I don’t think that the recent ‘Proxima signal’ is from an alien transmitter. Or that it’s not. And certainly not that it either must be or can’t be. Which is another topic.
4. Tasmanian Devils: Not Doomed?
(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
“There’s fresh hope for the survival of endangered Tasmanian devils after large numbers were killed off by facial tumours.
The world’s largest carnivorous marsupials have been battling Devil Facial Tumour Disease (DFTD) for over 20 years.
But researchers have found the animals’ immune system to be modifying to combat the assault.
And according to an international team of scientists from Australia, UK, US and France, the future for the devils is now looking brighter….”
Scientists don’t know for sure why Tasmanian devils aren’t dying as fast as they have been. But “…the decline has at least now levelled [!] out….” Which is good news for Tasmanian devils, and folks who have been concerned about the noisy critters.7
3. Habayusa-2’s Successful Return
(From JAXA/EPA, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(Hayabusa-2 return capsule — after successful landing near Woomera, South Australia.)
(From JAXA, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(“Chunks of rock and dust from asteroid Ryugu, contained in chamber A of the capsule”
(BBC News))
“Scientists have been greeted by the sight of jet black chunks of rock and soil from an asteroid after opening a capsule that returned from deep space a week ago.
“It’s the first significant sample of material to be delivered to Earth from a space rock and was grabbed last year by Japan’s Hayabusa-2 spacecraft….”
Human and robotic explorers have been bringing samples back since 1969. In 2010, JAXA’s Hayabusa spacecraft returned with a few micrograms of dust from 25143 Itokawa.
However much Haaybusa-2 returned, “considerable” sounds hopeful. And apparently scientists found gas from the asteroid, too.8 All of which warrants a place on this list.
So does making a successful landing. Returning to Earth is still a tricky process. I’m hoping NASA’s OSIRIS-REx samples experience a smooth landing in 2023.
A great deal can go wrong on the way from deep space to Earth’s surface.
Flashback: Genesis, 2004
(From USAF 388th Range Squadron, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Rough landing. (September 8, 2004))
NASA’s Genesis spacecraft collected and returned solar wind particles in 2004. Zipping along at 24,700 miles an hour — give or take a bit — its return capsule entered Earth’s atmosphere over Oregon.
At the right angle: not so shallow that it skipped back into space, or so steep that deceleration crushed the craft or overheating burned it.
By the time the Genesis return capsule reached Utah’s skies, it was sauntering along at about 109 mph. Aircraft were ready to catch it in mid-air. But a deceleration sensor didn’t work. The capsule’s parafoil didn’t deploy.
And the waiting pilots, prudently, let the capsule proceed to Dugway Proving Ground.
A recovery mission because a salvage job, the Stardust probe returned a gram of comet 81P/Wild, and that’s yet another topic.
2. COVID-19 Pandemic
(From Nsaum75, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Pandemic in 2009. Swine flu, folks waiting for vaccine in a Texas City mall.)
The COVID-19 pandemic has been in the news, a lot.
But does it really matter? — Either as science or as anything else? And is it really a public health issue?
After all, those folks in Texas City weren’t wearing masks or staying six feet apart while waiting for vaccine during the 2009 swine flu pandemic.
But I think the COVID-19 pandemic matters as science. And that it’s a public health issue.
So was 2009’s swine flu pandemic. And the 1976 swine flu pandemic that didn’t happen.
Swine Flu, Just Like COVID-19: Except For How It’s Not
Swine flu 2009 was a pandemic.
COVID-19 is a pandemic.
They’re both pandemics, so they’re both pretty much alike, right?
Not quite. Pandemics are epidemics that went global, or at least international. In principle, at least, pandemics range from ‘take two aspirin and call me in the morning’ to the Black Death.
The 2009 swine flu was somewhere between those extremes. Its H1N1/09 virus is a variation of the bug that gives folks the flue each year. And Swine flu 2009’s bug wasn’t the same as the 1976 swine flu’s.9
The Epidemic that Wasn’t: Swine Flu 1976
The 1976 swine flu’s virus was an H1N1 virus: A/H1N1 in that case.
The outbreak started in Fort Dix. American public health folks developed a vaccine, saw to it that a great many Americans were vaccinated, and the outbreak fizzled.
In 2006, an expert said that the folks in charge may have reacted too quickly to the 1976 swine flu outbreak.
Seems that recent number crunching shows that the outbreak might have fizzled anyway, without all those pokey vaccinations. In any case, only one person died of ‘swine flu 1976’ and that swine flu epidemic didn’t happen.
Pandemics and Survivability
H1N1 and company is — or would that be “are?” — what caused “Spanish influenza” and the “Russian flu:” the 1918 and 1918-1919 pandemics.
Those viruses have been been making folks sick every year since then.
Influenza can be fatal, but it’s not dignified.
Someone with a runny nose and watery eyes, who acts and sounds like an irritable frog, isn’t likely to inspire sappy sentiment.
And is more apt to star in something like that 1889 “everyone has influenza” cartoon.
I’ll grant that politicos, doctors and potion peddlers are fair game for satirists.
But I figure that trying to keep folks alive and healthy is a good idea, anyway. The job would be easier if viruses never changed. But that’s not how it is. Viruses change. fast.
That’s why we need an updated flu vaccine at least once a year. But each year’s flu vaccine is just that: an update of what we’ve done before. It’s not exactly a routine, but scientists have had considerable practice predicting and producing what’s needed.
Civil leaders may have over-reacted to pandemics, or maybe not.
I figure ‘an abundance of caution’ makes sense when dealing with a new virus. Even if it’s a mutated version of something we experience every year. “Mutated?!!” I’ll get back to that.
So does paying attention to how many folks are likely to die. CFR, Case Fatality Rate, is a controversial statistic. Data for pandemics is controversial. (December 16, 2020)
But data that some folks don’t like and statistical analyses that don’t satisfy everyone are all I have. So I’ll work with what I’ve got, hope for the best and focus on CFR numbers. At least then I’ll be comparing oranges to oranges.
Comparisons: Influenza Pandemics and COVID-19
(From Dan Polansky/BlankMap-World.svg authors, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(COVID-19 Deaths per million, by country: December 20, 2020))
The 1918 “Spanish flu” pandemic killed between 20,000 and 100,000 out of every million people diagnosed as having it. That’s between 2% and 10% CFR.
The 2009 swine flu pandemic only killed 100 out of every million diagnosed. That’s 0.01% CFR.
COVID-19 CFR varies by age, location and a whole mess of other factors. I gather that out of every million folks diagnosed as having COVID-19, between under 1,000 to 250,000 die. Some countries, like Singapore, have hardly any deaths. Others aren’t doing so well.
In other words, COVID-19’s CFR is between <0.1% to over 25%. The 1918 “Spanish flu CFR was, depending on whose numbers you look at, between 0.10% and 0.28%. Neither are in the Black Death’s league, but COVID-19 is a serious health problem.
All that’s rather abstract. Let’s see what’s happening where I live, Minnesota.
On December 26, 2020, Minnesota’s Department of Health reported a total of 3,93,391 confirmed COVID-19 cases. 4,957 of those folks are now dead.
That’s a CFR of 1.26% in Minnesota, on the day after Christmas, 2020: worse than a typical seasonal flu, but not as bad as the 1918 “Spanish flu.” Not quite. Not here.10
(†) Odds of survival depend on where you live. And many other factors.
Data, Disease, Death and Decisions
I’m quite sure we don’t know everything about the COVID-19 pandemic, including how many folks have been catching the disease and how many died as a result.
But I’m also quite sure that it’s a serious disease. And that panic is not a reasonable option. Not that it ever is.
Keeping track of pandemic diseases would be easier if every nation’s government collected data the same way and reported it in a standard format.
Maybe we will, someday. But that’s not today’s reality.
On the ‘up’ side, we’ve learned a great deal since the Black Death was a current event.
We can’t, however use satellite imagery to highlight disease hotspots.
And governments haven’t settled on a standardized ‘who’s sick and who’s dying’ reporting format. I’m pretty sure that some governments are run by folks who prefer not acknowledging that their subjects are dying in wholesale lots.
That said, I see collecting and analyzing data that is available as a good idea. That’s part of the ‘science’ angle to the COVID-19 pandemic.
I don’t envy folks whose job is making decisions based on incomplete and sometimes-dubious data. Partly because they don’t have the option I do: waiting until more and better data arrives. Not if they’re going to do their job right.
Wrapping this bit up, we’ve learned and are learning a great deal about what makes folks sick, and how to lower the odds of death and permanent disability. And we’ve got a great deal left to learn.
“Travel may increase your chance of spreading and getting COVID-19. CDC continues to recommend postponing travel and staying home, as this is the best way to protect yourself and others this year.
“If you are considering traveling for the winter holidays, here are some important questions to ask yourself and your loved ones beforehand. These questions can help you decide what is best for you and your family….”
Okay. That CDC page is more of a Public Service Announcement than news.
“…As Joe Biden lifts his right hand to take the oath of office at noon on Jan. 20 at the Capitol, a team of specially trained cleaners will be lifting their hands to disinfect the White House….”
“…Biden and his wife, Jill, each received shots at ChristianaCare Hospital in Newark, Delaware. They will each need another round of the vaccinations developed by Pfizer-BioNTech in about 21 days….”
“Shares in London dropped and the pound lost ground after several EU countries closed their borders to the UK, which has reported a new variant of coronavirus….”
The closest approach to science I saw in Monday’s headlines was the “new variant of coronavirus” that was spooking investors.
Beware the Mutant Virus?
(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(No, giant mutant coronaviruses are not coming to get you.)
I’ll take that — and an apparent lack of allusion to cautionary tales like “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!” — as good news.
Virus Mutations Happen
And my hat’s off to outfits like BBC News, whose staff apparently takes time to research their topics, and include some science in their science news.
“…But every once in a while, a virus strikes lucky by mutating in a way that positively affects its ability to survive and reproduce….
“…Mutations in the gene that encodes the spike protein, which the virus uses to latch on to and enter human cells, are particularly worrisome.
“Some have been reported before, but not in the same precise number and combination.
“The variant has 14 mutations that cause a change in protein building blocks (amino acids) and three deletions (missing bits of genetic code)….”
(Helen Briggs, BBC News (December 22, 2020))
Changes in the SARS-CoV-2’s ‘spike-making’ code is, I think, reason for concern. Concern, not fretting.
And certainly not chucking science and giving flagellation a try. That sort of thing went out of vogue in the 15th century, and I’m drifting off-topic. (March 31, 2020)
Learning more about how the mutant spikes work makes sense, since at least some of the new mRNA vaccines work by making our cells mimic the SARS-CoV-2 spikes.11
“Mutant spikes?!” Good grief. Maybe I should cut news editors some slack. It’s hard to write colloquial headlines for COVID-19 pieces without sounding like a B-movie promoter.
Anyway, mutant spikes and vaccines bring me to my NUMBER ONE science news topic for 2020.
1. Science and Technology, Ethics and Decisions: mRNA Vaccines
(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(Good news, mRNA vaccines are easier to make. But they don’t travel well.12)
“The very first vaccines for COVID-19 to complete phase 3 testing are an entirely new type: mRNA vaccines….
“…Traditional vaccines work: polio and measles are just two examples of serious illnesses brought under control by vaccines. Collectively, vaccines may have done more good for humanity than any other medical advance in history. But growing large amounts of a virus, and then weakening the virus or extracting the critical piece, takes a lot of time.
“Early steps toward mRNA vaccines
“About 30 years ago, a handful of scientists began exploring whether vaccines could be made more simply. What if you knew the exact structure of the mRNA that made the critical piece of a virus’s protein coat, such as the spike protein of the COVID-19 virus?…”
I see the COVID-19 mRNA vaccines as “exciting” in part because they’re an example of practical science: science and technology, economics and administrative decisions working together.
That’s the good news.
The bad news is that two of the new vaccines were tested with parts from a girl who was killed in the early 1970s: cell line HEK 293 and its variants. And HEK 293 was used in development of a third vaccine.
I’ve talked about available vaccines, the HEK 293 cell line, ethics and making decisions before. (December 16, 2020)
I figure a recap won’t hurt, so here goes.
Killing an innocent person to help another is a bad idea, even if the homicide is legal. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2268–2279, 2292–2296)
But I am not denouncing the two ‘tested with parts’ vaccines.
Ethics Matter — So do Life and Health
It’d be nice if the HEK 293 donor hadn’t been killed. But that’s not how it was, and now we have government-approved COVID-19 vaccines and ethical issues.
Maybe the COVID-19 pandemic will disappear in the wee hours of January 1, 2021.
Or, better yet, at the start of New York City’s business hours on December 30: with a gilt-edged guarantee, allowing the annual Times Square party to go ahead.
Seriously? That’s not going to happen. Although I do wonder what the Times Square virtual celebration will be like.
What will almost certainly happen is that, sooner or later, my turn will come to get a COVID-19 vaccination. And then I’ll cooperate. Or I won’t.
I’m hoping that one of the two available vaccines that weren’t developed with a murdered girl’s cells are available. Even so, the final tests of those two involved the HEK 293 donor.
I don’t like that.
But I’m not overly fond of playing ‘holier than the Pope,’ either. So I’ll go along with what my bishops and the Vatican have said.
Ethics matter. So does valuing my neighbor’s life and health. (December 16, 2020)
Working for the common good includes, but isn’t limited to, acting as if my neighbor’s life and health matters. It’s part of being Catholic. (Catechism, One/Two/Article 2 Participation in Social Life/II: The Common Good, 2258–2317)
Now, back to science and being human.
Cooperation and mRNA Vaccines
(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
“After the vaccine is injected into a person’s arm, the muscle cells will essentially swallow the mRNA, bringing it into the cell. From there, our body uses mRNA to make a coronavirus protein that your immune system can recognize and respond to. After getting the vaccine, if you are exposed to the real coronavirus, antibodies can recognize that protein, grab on to it, and keep the virus from getting into our cells.
“How it was developed
“As epidemiologist Rene Najera explains, while this is the first time a vaccine with this technology has been authorized, the technology is not new. The speed was also enabled by the global scientific community: pretty much as soon as the genetic sequence for the virus was released in January of this year, scientists across the globe began working on vaccines. It also helps that this particular vaccine is easier for scientists to make in the lab compared to others like the flu vaccine….”
As I see it, the big deal about our new COVID-19 mRNA vaccines isn’t new science. It’s science started in the late 20th century, applied to the problem of a new and dangerous virus.
I’ve no idea when we’d have seen the first mRNA vaccines, without the COVID-19 pandemic. And some truly remarkable examples of common sense.
I strongly suspect that developing and authorizing the new vaccines wouldn’t have been possible without today’s information technology helping scientists share information.
And a remarkable number of leaders letting scientists cooperate with each other.
Living in a Less-Than-Ideal world
I’d much rather live in a world where crackpots weren’t part of public discourse.
Maybe dividing the world into righteous ‘real Americans’ and the megalomaniacal evil masterminds plotting against me and folks who agree with me would be easier.
Or maybe not.
I get the impression that folks who lean toward that caricature and its liberal analogs aren’t very happy.
In any case, the world we live in isn’t a utopian Camelot brimming with harmony and understanding, where sympathy and trust abound: with no more falsehoods or derisions.
And I’m wandering off-topic again.
I’m Catholic, so I’m obliged to see paying attention to God’s universe and using what we learn — science and technology — as good ideas. They’re part of being human. I’m also expected to think that being healthy, and staying healthy, make sense. Within reason. (Catechism, 35–36, 301, 303–306, 311, 1704, 2288–2289, 2293–2296)
Like anything else we do, science and technology can be used to help or hurt others. How we use them is up to us.
I think helping others is a good idea. I’d jolly well better.
We’re experiencing a pandemic that’s scarier than many.
And we have vaccines for the new disease long before I thought we would.
Americans have endured another presidential election.
And I’ve finally begun sorting through a backlog of topics. Including “A Golden Age that Didn’t Quite Happen” and “Asisium, Assisi, and a Rich Kid’s Impulsive Charity.”
“Asisium…” is a working title which I may or may not use when the thing’s finished.
I’ve also got scattered notes about exoplanets, evolution and speculation regarding extraterrestrial intelligence.
So I predict that I’ll keep writing about science, life, the universe and everything. Barring unforeseen events, which are pretty much inevitable in this world.
Here’s a not-entirely-unrelated sample of stuff I’ve already written:
Keep up with A Catholic Citizen in America: subscribe. (below) (Don't worry, I won't bug you. Check out my Privacy Policy.)
Weekly Schedule
Something new each Saturday.
Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
Thanks to the previous owner’s planting preferences, a window near my desk provides a clear view of a tree’s interior.
“2021 storming of the United States Capitol” may or may not stick as a name for whatever happened last Wednesday. I’m even less certain about what actually happened.
I’m upset, worried and angry about what happened on Wednesday.
I don’t like what I’m seeing in America’s old-school news. And I take what I see in any media with at least a crate of salt. Sometimes a barge.
Antics of the frighteningly fervent faithful aren’t, I think, reasonable.
Prayer is part of being Catholic. And it’s a good idea. (Catechism, 2558-2565, 2566-2567, 2568-2589, …)
