I don’t know exactly what I’m going to be putting on this page, which is why I called it “random stuff.” To be precise, though, whatever does end up here won’t be random at all, since it will result from intent. I’m using “random” in the casual, non-mathematical way people sometimes use it, as a synonym for “miscellaneous” or “unpredictable.” You’re thinking I should just call the page “miscellaneous stuff.” I thought about that. “Random” sounds more fun. Plus, try getting a graphic designer to fit “miscellaneous stuff” on a navigation button.

 

Note: The original three entries are below. However, now that I have a blog, I will not be adding content to this page. Visit my blog at http://scottstein.powerblogs.com for lots of new content.

 

Armstrong—harder than hard

Be happy they wear those gloves...

Only a theory

 

 

 

 

Armstrong—harder than hard

 

If you’d battled and defeated some of the most heinous forms of cancer, went on to win seven consecutive Tour de Frances, and were (at one time) making it with Sheryl Crow, you might be thinking to yourself, "I'm pretty hard." Others would agree. But then you might realize that you’re not even the hardest man with your last name. Because there’s this other guy named Armstrong who did a little thing called being the first human in all of history to walk on the moon. Not that you’re a slouch—winning the Tour de France is manly, and staring down cancer is hard—but you just can’t trump walking on the moon. Neil might not be the boastful type, but if you got up in his face about how hard you are, he might say, "Did I mention that I was the first man to ever walk on the moon? Good luck with that bicycle thing, though." And what can you say to that?

 

Be happy they wear those gloves...

 

We’ve all heard that birth control “sometimes fails.” Of course it sometimes fails (everything does), but every couple I’ve ever known—and I’ve known a few—who “had an accident,” and ended up with a fourth kid, meant by “accident” not that the birth control had failed, but that they’d neglected to use any. “A miscommunication,” they said. Or, “The tequila did it.” Not one said, “The condom ripped.” Which brings us to the location of the greatest concentration of irresponsible doctors ever: television.

I didn’t even watch ER regularly, but even I know that one doctor—the handsome one—got the nurse pregnant, by accident; another doctor—the bald one—got the British doctor pregnant, by accident; another doctor—the rich one—got the AIDS worker pregnant, by accident. My wife tells me that, more recently, another ER couple—a doctor and an EMT—also had an accident. So we have eight people on ER—five doctors, one nurse, an EMT, and an AIDS worker—an AIDS worker—who didn’t practice safe sex or use birth control.

And don’t forget the recent unexpected pregnancy on Grey’s Anatomy—the two surgeons apparently hadn’t heard of condoms, or didn’t know how to use them, or weren’t aware of the methods by which a person gets pregnant. Other doctors on the show have so far avoided unintentional conception, though it’s a young show. At the rate these people are sleeping with each other...

Five sets of doctors/nurses/EMTs/AIDS workers capable of performing open-heart surgery but not able to keep from exchanging intimate bodily fluids. I would bet there are others, but mercifully, my knowledge of TV medical dramas ends here.

Four of the pregnancies were on the same show. TV writers need plot devices, we know—and how many helicopters can they have spin tragically out of control at a single hospital? Certainly not more than two. And after you’ve had your doctors addicted to drugs, stabbed to death, die of cancer, convert to lesbianism, you’ve got to do something.

*Update* January 5, 2006: I am told that recently yet another ER doctor-couple had an accident and unintentionally got pregnant. I leave it to readers to draw their own conclusions about the desperation of television writers. It is hard to figure out how the birthrate is dropping when even doctors can’t manage to work the birth control.

 

Only a theory:

 

I’ve seen the following on bumper stickers: “Evolution is a theory” or “Evolution is only a theory.” The point, of course, with theory in italics, is to make Evolution seem like it’s just some guy’s idea. We all have theories, after all, about all sorts of things. Some people have a theory that God planted the dinosaur skeletons deep in the ground to test our faith. Theory here is being used in a disparaging, nonscientific way to mean any old idea we happen to entertain, as distinct from fact, which is understood as supported by evidence and true. This can be seen in a variation of the bumper sticker that goes something like: “Evolution is a theory, not a fact.”

In scientific circles, theory has no such disparaging connotation. So, though scientists agree that Evolution is a theory, not a fact, it is not because they doubt that some version of Evolution occurred and is occurring. It’s because of the meaning of theory and fact in a scientific context. As an example, water boiling at 212 degrees Fahrenheit under controlled conditions is a verifiable fact. Explaining why it does so, and taking into account a large body of other related facts, requires a theory. Some theories are stronger than others, but in science, calling something a theory does not imply that it is wrong or false or just some guy’s opinion. The bumper sticker implies otherwise, and its effectiveness depends on a general misunderstanding of how scientists use words.

Anyway, here’s a bumper sticker I’d like to see: “Gravity is only a theory.”

Because it is. But that doesn’t mean we jump off the roof.