Confessions of a (former) Lab Rat

They do things differently here.

Jacaranda trees synchronize their blossoming, then unrobe in a snow storm of purple, a fanfare for the newly born spring-coloured leaves. Eucalyptus don’t shed their leaves in autumn, but they do slough off their bark. The wildlife is deadly, making barefoot frolicking in the grass hazardous. The Sun goes round the wrong way (and the Moon says COD, not DOC). The bastards give you parking tickets for parking in the ‘University-owned vehicles only’ bay outside your department on a bloody Saturday.

Australians, judging from the adverts on the radio and by the roadside, are lousy lovers. ‘Nasal delivery technology’ (google it) is pushed really hard; to help keep men up for longer. There was an extended billboard campaign, asking

Want longer lasting sex?

until the wowsers complained, and they were all changed to

Want longer lasting CENSORED?

But on my way home from the lab this morning, my penalty notice shoved into the glove box, I had to admire (and laugh at) the marketeers’ persistence. The billboards now read

“Bonk longer”:http://www.adrants.com/2008/11/longer-lasting-sex-a-no-no-longer.php

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To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never before been called ‘cool’. Lots of other things, yes: ‘mad’, ‘arrogant’, ‘crazy but in a nice sort of way’, ‘illegally sexy’, ‘public nuisance’ and ‘dangerous air cargo’ among other things; but not ‘cool’.

The Elder Pawn vouchsafed to me the other day that her classmates thought that I don’t ‘look like a scientist’. Apparently, all it took to earn the epithet ‘cool’ was to collect the F1s from school, with my bicycle and wearing sunglasses. The sunnies are cheap polarizing Cancer Council ones from K-Mart, and while the bike is very nice, thankyouverymuch, I didn’t think schoolkids appreciated such things (maybe I do them a disservice. Maybe it was the lack of a cycle helmet).

Not looking like a scientist, earlier today

And the Younger Pawn, who is at the same school, has been coming across the same thing. Scientists supposedly look like nerds, with glasses, poor dress sense and pens sticking out of various orifices pockets.

None of this is news, naturally. But what struck me is that the stereotype is already embedded in the minds of children before they are 12 years old: before high school. What’s more, the Pawns go to a school where about 90% of the children are from Asian immigrant families. Having read Alom Shaha’s wonderful essay, I was somewhat surprised. It is a cross-cultural stereotype.

And I want to know where it comes from.

Because I’m not convinced, really, that the representation of scientists in entertainment is all bad. I think that news bulletins tend to find the most stereotypical scientists, but don’t these kids watch CSI, or the X-Files (_probably not, Richard—Ed_), or even Jimmy Neutron or Dexter’s Laboratory? Are we born with this perception?

Enquiring minds want to know.

I know it’s not Friday, but this is too good to pass up. I’ve listened to this track dozens of times, but only today while waiting for my DNA complexes to assemble did I actually hear this lyric:

I think it’s time I got away from here
I got those West Bromwich Blues, yeah
and there ain’t not a single thing I can do

Your mission is to tell me who is the artist, what’s the track, and—critically, perhaps—name the album.

And no googling.

After figuring out the answer to my own question I took home a small amount of the appropriate chemicals and mixed them together in front of the Pawns.

They were disappointed, when I called them round, that the answer to their own question (‘Is it going to explode?’) was ‘No’. But they were delighted when I made the dark blue dye of Prussian uniforms.

They’ve been hassling me to give them some to take into school and show their friends. The Elder Pawn told her teacher about the experiment, who now wants to know what the chemicals involved are.

I will look forward to hearing of the teacher’s reaction (har har).

Everybody’s at it.

Everybody seems to want to sex up the appeal of their career, to attract BYTs to come and do what they’re doing, even if it might be counter-productive. Scientists are as guilty as anyone else (and I know a certain NN-er actually once said ‘scientists are sexy’ in a crowded room. The horror). Different vocations have, obviously, different aspects, and recruiters play on the ones that they might think would be appealing to the ‘right stuff’, while downplaying the not so pleasant duties.

Grim Reality

I see the Army Navy knuckleheads are at it, again. This weekend, the Royal Marine Commandos (who, before they start looking for me, I have to admit are the toughest bunch of bastards you could ever hope to have on your side) will be at cinemas across the UK, laying down the ‘”Bergen Challenge”:http://www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/DefenceNews/PeopleInDefence/VideoMarinesToChallengePublicAtASilverScreenNearYou.htm’, in which you have to (try to) carry one of the sixty pound rucksacks the boys in the green berets take with them everywhere (it’s pretty rough in down-town Portsmouth, I hear).

Publicity shot

And—

Well, you’re all way ahead of me already, aren’t you?

What about the ‘Gilson Challenge’? Or the ‘Pipette-tip Racking Challenge?’ The ‘How Many Colonies Can You Get Out of a Single Aliquot of Competent Cells Challenge?’ The ‘Who’s The Fastest Crystallographer?’ race.

I’m sure you can think of more.

In celebration of Friday, I’d like to draw your attention to this rather marvellous corner of the internet:

and in particular the Venn diagrams. It should appeal to all you geeks out there, especially Bob.

And it’s time to remind you that it’s day 7, and I’m getting hairier.

There was an interesting question posed on the Sceptical Chymist last week: is the cyclization reaction that makes the chromophore of green fluorescent protein a rare event or a common one; and how do we find out?

In return for bringing that question to the attention of my biochemical friends, I have a question for the chemists.

Is Prussian Blue made from ferric chloride and potassium ferrocyanide, or ferrous chloride and potassium ferricyanide, or some unholy mixture of the two? Because I’m having a little local difficulty remembering and I’m not sure we have the right reagents in the lab to do the experiment myself. All I can recall at the moment is ‘hexacyanoferrate’ which is the product.

Before you say anything, wikipedia is self-contradictory.

Congratulations to the new president of the United States!

I was doing a little noodling around last night (research for my own novel. Jenny and Henry don’t have a duopoly on this business, you know) and came across this rather bittersweet image:

And then this morning I read a valedictory commentary (HT: Maxine at Nautilus). Let’s hope that SRS’s successor, Diamond, is even more successful.

On the afternoon of the first Tuesday in November, something bizarre happens in Australia—more bizarre than usual. Instead of skiving off and having a beer, Australians dress up, skive off and have a beer (or wine or champagne or non-alcoholic beverage of choice). Except in Victoria, where they make a whole day of it and have done so since 1877.

The occasion for these revelries is the Melbourne Cup. Think Ascot meets the Grand National, but without the horses.

No wait, sorry, there are horses; I wondered what was on the telly in the corner.

Anyway, normally sensible people bet on the race and think they’re going to win, every office has a sweepstake, and in most places most Australians get dressed up for the event. True to form an email came around last week,

We will have a wee prize for the best dressed lady & to comply with the Uni policy of equality we will also have a wee prize for the best dressed
gentleman.

Well, that sounded like a challenge to me.

So come this afternoon I wandered down to the common room for the drinks and nibbles provided by the department, and was met by a veritable sea of drabness. Hardly a soul had dressed up. I saw two, maybe three hats, but apart from Helen and Dave no one else had bothered. As soon as I walked in two of the admin staff turned to me and said, “You’ve won”.

Dave the scary Irishman, Helen, and me

After the race I chaired a lab meeting (dressed like that), ate birthday cake with the rest of the lab (dressed like that) and then went back to my office to code in perl (dressed like that). Well, someone has to show the bloody convicts what it’s all about.

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