You Positively MUST Read This Post

What I get paid to do is be a Research Scientist Associate (II - The Sequel?) at the Bureau of Economic Geology, which is part of The University of Texas, where I got my master's a couple of years ago. One of the big requirements for research types is you have to publish papers of your research, and I have found myself none too good at this. I wonder: if I publish something on the 'Dlog and it gets more than one comment, can I count that as peer-reviewed?

But this type of writing is kind of up my alley: to the point, correct spellings, etc. (Please don't laugh; I do have feelings. And I can see you.) But I have been going over some of my supervisor's revisions to a version of my master's thesis I hope to publish, and a common response to everything I've ever submitted for revision jumps out at me: motivation. Why should I care about (fault timing, sealed microfractures, or anything I've ever written about)? my reviewer asks.

My reviewer paints science readers as a bunch of major-league philistines. Isn't anything ever just interesting anymore? So you've cured cancer, the science reader thinks, how is this going to make me money? My motivation sections invariably include the search for porosity in rocks (in the hopes that these pores might be filled with hydrocarbons, which motivation renders my study completely useless in fifty years, when no one will give a damn about the little holes), and the ways in which this study will broaden our general scientific knowledge (noble, yes, but it should go without saying. And as well: if listed as a motivation, this reason risks an infinite regression of well why do I care about thats?).

Were I a movie maker, would I include such incentives in the previews as this movie will doubtlessly be brought up in conversation by sexy women at parties this spring or watching this slasher will increase the viewer's general understanding of how to get scared shitless or attending this film will help Regal Cinema's bottom line this quarter?

No. I would say what the movie is about, and if you're cool enough to find that interesting, it starts Friday.

Why Can't the Bears AND Colts Lose?

I am absent-minded in that I tend to do things that I'm used to on auto-pilot. When I back out of my driveway I almost always turn west on Justin Lane, towards Burnet Road, simply because I'm used to my route to work. I'm often halfway there before I think about where it is I'm headed. Once I have something down, I do it compulsively. This helps in practicing kung fu or playing guitar, but I fear it will be the death, or serious dismemberment, of me.

I have imagined two events that could likely happen to me in the future because of my habit. One is that I will mangle my hand in a garbage disposal while shoving old vegetables down it. I could be reaching down into it to dislodge some asparagus, alternately manually dislodging and running the thing, and just lose track of which hand should be doing what and, more importantly, when. The scene in The Hot Zone, I think, where the lab tech is reading a magazine and he reaches into the centrifuge full of ebola samples, while it's still spinning, and cuts himself and infects the world really got to me. I can totally see myself doing the same thing. Mangling my hand in a garbage disposal would be decidedly bad for my guitar playing.

The other, even scarier, thing I predict for myself is going to work and leaving my hypothetical future child in the car seat in the back until 2 in the afternoon when I realize I didn't go by the day care center, cooking his brain, and making myself look like an awful person. Kind of à la Trainspotting. I have heard of people doing that and it makes them seem like such idiots, but please see my opinion on judgmentalism, two posts back.

I obviously seek help for this condition. My thinking now is that I will work my brain into a parnoid frenzy every time I use a garbage disposal (this has worked so far). If I'm ever a parent, I think I will tie a piece of twine to my child's carseat and tie the other end to my wrist whenever I drive. But these solutions are, of course, treating the symptoms (although before they occur, which is nice). I would love to treat the disease, although not with drugs.

Future post: the overuse of prescription drugs in modern America. Now that's original.