Cheese Ends 2025-07-02

We’re going north to our cabin to do some work. It’s time to get out the blog entry early.

 

And I think it’s time for Cheese Ends.

 

(Picture from here.)

 

The Most Ancient Boomerang

Scientists have uncovered an ancient boomerang made from a mammoth tusk. The age is still indeterminate but it appears to be on the order of 40,000 years old. 

 

This is interesting for a couple of reasons. For one, it’s made from mammoth tusk in Poland. This puts it at the very beginning of Homo sapiens invasion of Europe. Given that it’s a mammoth tusk, this means we were able to drop big animals very early on—which is one more piece of evidence that a good deal of the loss of these megafauna is attributable to us.

 

But it’s a boomerang—a sophisticated piece of hunting weaponry that is most famously used by the aborigines in Australia. Experiments have shown it works smoothly and doesn’t return—similarly to the hunting versions used by the aborigines. This indicates a couple of scenarios: 1) humans in Poland and humans in Australia figured out the same weaponry at nearly the same time. (There’s a depiction of a boomerang in rock art that is 50,000 years old.) 2) The boomerang was invented long before humans invaded Australia (for the first time) and carried there.

 

Both scenarios are extremely interesting.

 

Neural Speech Implant

This is a different approach than has been done previously. Before, the attempt was brain->text->speech. The accuracy was first a problem but even when that was licked the latency was a big issue.

 

This approach attempts to create sounds rather than text. I.e., the human provides enough neural data that can be interpreted as sound and, since the human is attempting speech, what comes out is intelligible. Or, at least, that is the intention.

 

The impulses that come out go through an AI interpreter (see? A good use for AI!) in order for a sound to be created. Training had to be done between the human and the AI to get anywhere close to a speech output. But progress has been made. 

 

The exciting feature is that it can do this work in near real time. Right now, it’s a proof of concept. But it does tend to verify Niven’s Paradigm: “You don’t get down off an elephant. You get down off a duck.” We don’t always have to do things the hard way.

 

Mice Regeneration

Mammals don’t regenerate much. I mean salamanders, some fish, spiders, and other species have the ability to regenerate significantly lost components such as legs, tails, and fins, while we have to be satisfied if the cut on our fingers heals with too much of a scar. I mean, imagine if miter saw amputations were just a few weeks therapy? (I had a close call. It’s in the forefront of my mind.)

 

It turns out that mice and rabbits heal differently when a hole is punched in the membrane of their ear. (Remember, rabbits and rodents are only distantly related. Rabbits are Lagomorpha and rodents are Rodentia. Never the twain shall meet for the last fifty million years.) In rabbits, the hole greatly reduces in size. But in mice, the hole heals as a hole. The idea is that this difference might be a step in the direction of regeneration.

 

The difference was traced to a specific gene which activated in rabbits and remained idle in mice. This gene triggered the production of retinoic acid, which appears to be important in cell positioning and differentiation in embryos. 

 

Mice given regular injections of retinoic acid regenerated the ear pinna just like the bunnies did. 

 

Watch this space for new developments.

 

Axions: Now With Quantum Chromodynamics!

There’s a lot of missing mass in the universe. It’s been demonstrated time and time again. Galaxies rotate too quickly. We see gravitational lensing where there is (apparently) nothing there. And the larger structures of the universe seem to lie out there like beads on an invisible string. 

 

Unless there’s something wrong with gravitational theory, (I’m looking at you, Modified Newtonian Dynamics) there’s Something Out There We Can’t See. This is what is called “dark matter.” 

 

We’ve been looking for whatever makes up dark matter for decades now with nothing much to show for it. We were looking at WIMPs—Weakly Interacting Massive Particles—but they wimped out. MOND is still in the works but they have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do. 

 

Now, it’s the axion’s turn.

 

Axions (named after a laundry detergent) were invented to handle a different problem. The strong nuclear force obeys symmetry rules but there’s nothing there to enforce said rules. We could say the strong force is pure at heart but no one thought that likely. The idea of a new field in the universe to enforce that symmetry was born. Like the boll weevil needs a home, the field needed a particle and the name axion was slapped on it.

 

The axion is a tiny, tiny thing. Much, much smaller than a neutrino, which is, itself, much, much smaller than a proton. In fact, it’s so small it’s not clear that the word “particle” fits. All particles are also waves and the wavelength is inversely proportional to the particle size. Axions are so small that their wavelengths could range from meters to solar system size. 

 

But, if they exist, they are bosons which means they can group together to form a condensate that resembles a single massive particle. This is one hypothesis regarding their role in dark matter. It’s not a bunch of weak particles out there making up the missing mass. It’s a huge collection of condensates. 

 

Maybe. After all, there is at present absolutely no physical evidence that axions (or their corresponding field) actually exists. Just an inference from a gap in the model. This is something those who favor MOND gleefully like to point out.

 

Earth Sized Planets Found Not Where We Want Them and Here

Stars come in all sizes. But we would like them to be like our own sun. Big stars burn out quickly and, if big enough, end their lives in spectacular supernovae. Tiny stars burn nearly forever but have problems. Medium stars, like ours, last for billions of years and don’t try to kill their planets. At least, not often.

 

The most numerous stars we’ve found are Red Dwarfs. These are the most common kind of star. They’re called “red” because they put out a bit redder in their spectra. They’re tiny—less than 10% the mass of our sun. But, because of that, they sip hydrogen like fine wine and last for trillions of years.

 

This makes them interesting candidates for life.

 

Except, there are problems. Red dwarfs flare often. Really big flares. Flares that might scorch the atmosphere of one of their planets. And the planets in the Goldilocks Zone, where there is the possibility of liquid water, have to be very, very close to the star. So close that they get scorched. In addition, typically their so close they are tidally locked with one side perpetually facing their star. (The Moon is tidally locked so we only see the near side.)

 

So, not only do they get scorched regularly, one side gets all the heat while the other side gets zip. There is evidence life isn’t possible under these circumstances.

 

So, it is with a heavy heart, that Earth sized planets are much more prevalent around red dwarfs. 

 

We can find rocky planets like us around red dwarfs. But they’re probably dead. 

 

Yay.

 

GOP Crushes Solar Energy

There are a lot of reasons to despise the new budget bill. I consider the second B in the BBB is “butt ugly.” But that’s just me.

 

Regardless, one of the things in the bill is rescinding the energy subsidy for solar installations. There has been some suggestion that there is actually a tax on solar in the bill but I haven’t found that part so it’s speculation as far as I’m concerned.

 

I don’t understand the calculus here. The issues with fossil fuels are numerous and well known: CO2 caused global warming, mercury from coal, pollution in the air and water from burning all this stuff. Even if you believe global warming is a Chinese hoax—a very damned effective one, if so—the rest is pretty much settle fact. The sun spills over everyone. We don’t need to drill for oil, make pipelines, or spill it all over. 

 

There are engineering issues with cutting away from fossil fuels—well, none, as far as I’m concerned, regarding coal. Shut that one down. But those are engineering issues. Work on them long enough and they will be solved. The rhetoric about energy takes on a cult like fervor. As if it is our duty as Americans to burn as much oil as we possibly can in service to the shortened lifespans of future generations. 

 

The rhetoric calculus is idiotic. But the political calculus is inescapable. Exxon and its ilk do want us beholden to them. They like having us by the hanging bits.

 

I don’t like giving money to Exxon, either at the pump, in the monthly bill, or in my taxes. 

 

So, now we have a dog in this race. Thirteen years ago we put solar on the house and it has paid for itself three times over. We’re looking into more—hopefully, to have it in place to take advantage of subsidies while they’re still here. But we’ll manage it if we can’t.

 

The reason is energy independence. Right now, we have to rely on the good nature of fossil fuel companies for some percentage of our yearly energy costs. That’s expensive and will get more expensive—if you don’t think so, I have some land in Florida to sell you. Waterfront property, twelve hours every day. 

 

Eventually, we’re not going to be in debt to the fossil fuel companies for running our house. Transportation is next. 

 

Oh, and want to see how NIH cuts are hurting important research worldwide? See here.

 

Used to be American exceptionalism was about accomplishments. Now, it’s just talk.

 

State of the Farm: June, 2025

Another cold Memorial Day followed by three weeks (and counting) cold days. Sometimes, we get in the seventies. Once or twice, in the upper eighties and low nineties. But preceded and followed by dreary fifty and sixty degree days.

We planted most of the remainder of the garden on Memorial Day weekend but kept some back such as melons and cucumbers. Then, we had lost any time buffer and were forced to put out squash, sugar beet, and melon sets. They have taken their own sweet time recovering. 

 

We have three gardens: the main garden (shown above), the raised beds, and the east garden. The east garden has sweet corn, pinto beans and long beans, fava beans, sorghum, and an asparagus bed. The sweet corn has been weak and we held off planting the pinto beans around it—sort of like a three sisters arrangement where one of the sisters has left in a huff—for fear the climbing beans would choke them. But we finally had to. The pintos haven’t come up yet but all the other beans have. 

 

We’re also trying an odd woolly tomato. It seems more robust than the other varieties. If it tastes good, we might add it to the repertoire. 

 

In the main garden, the beans have all sprouted: standard “white” beans and black turtle, both climbing varieties. For bush beans, we chose purple dove. It’s an experiment. We planted six varieties of squash including two pumpkins. Three of them seem to have hardened up but the remainder still look sickly. We’ll see. The zucchini and sweet potatoes look quite good. I’m not worried about the zucchini but temperature will tell the sweet potato tale so we will see. Carrots are coming up. We’re also trying sugar beets again but they’re not looking good. We grew sets and they have never thrived. This year, I’m also trying albino beets which are supposedly able to be sugared. 

 

We harvested all of the red radishes and some of them were woody. I ate the remainder. Wendy put them in a bowl with vinegar and a little sugar. After a week or so, they were a delicacy. Excellent for salads. But also by themselves. 

 

In the raised beds, the potatoes are vigorous. We have a new strawberry bed which is feeding us daily. The other beds have some carrots, peppers, basil, etc. None of them are ready for any sort of harvest. We have many allium beds of various types: onions, leeks, garlic, shallots, and the like. Some of them are being harvested but many don’t like the cold. 

 

There are some oddities around the yard. I keep trying to grow birdhouse gourds and failing. I planted sets and nothing came up. They were outside in a tray when we did have a couple of warm days and they peeked out. I’ve planted them but they do not like the cold. I’m thinking next year there might be a sets that I raise in the house where it’s warmer. The gourds didn’t wake up until the nighttime temperature was above sixty. I’m thinking the same about some of the others such as the sugar beets or the melons. The day temperature in the greenhouse is warm but at night it’s only guaranteed to fifty degrees. I think that might be too cold for some of these. 

 

We have a good pear crop coming. Quince and apple, too. A couple of the new peach trees have wee peaches. Now, if we can just keep the chipmunks at bay… We’re having grape problems. Between caterpillars and some kind of fungus. The two may be related. I’d spray more but there’s been so much rain, what’s the point? If we get a little good weather, I’ll spray the dickens out of them.

 

Last year I had some health problems that kept me from attacking much of the garden and fruit tree issues. The issues never go away. They just get bigger. But, this year it looks like we’re more on top of them. 

 

Oh, and here are some articles on how Trump is destroying science:

• NASA Not Being Made Great
• Cuts At NIH Is Not Making America Healthy and here
• AI To Approve Drugs Rather Than Humans

 

Announcement: Descending from the Moon

On June 24, 2025, the first volume of my three part novel, Brother to Jackals, is finally coming out. Slightly more than two weeks from now.

 

It has been a long time coming.

 

The Bookview Café and Print links aren’t ready yet. The Universal Book Link (UBL) is here. If your provider isn’t there yet, check back. More are being added every day.

 

Here is the description:

LeRoy Parkin had a secret: a project to raise the intelligence of chimpanzees, gorillas, orangutans, and baboons to human levels.

Some would say that wasn’t a very high bar. Fifteen years after he began, plagues – preventable but not prevented – broke the world, killing over 99% of the world’s human population. Parkin survived, moving his team and the animals to a secure island for the duration of what would become known as the Die-Back.

Fifty years later, the Die-Back ended with the Restoration of the United States. The remaining humans nervously focused on recovery, trying to keep at bay old fears and prejudices long discarded in favor of survival. Parkin, now an aging patriarch, left the apes on the island and restarted LifeWorks on the mainland.

After two decades, they have had some success.

But three years ago, the apes began discussing who they were, what they wanted, and what they should do next.

Today, they’ve made the decision.

In this first volume of a post-apocalyptic science fiction trilogy, author Steven Popkes reminds us of the connections that both sustain and endanger humanity and the world around us.

 

 Enjoy.

 

Consideration of Works Past: Three Sixties “Comedies”

Let me explain something first.

 

(Picture from here.)

 

When I was a kid, I lived in Southern California. For reasons I’m not clear on, the TV stations in our area didn’t put on modern cartoons or made for TV movies. Instead, it was films made in the thirties and similarly dated cartoons. I was essentially weaned on WC Fields, Buster Keaton, Fleischer Superman and Popeye, and like material. 

 

It warped me. 

 

I loved movies.

 

When I was living in Thousand Oaks, there was a theater that offered on Saturdays free admission to any kid with six Pepsi-Cola bottle caps. Double features. Between the movies, there were auctions where kids with garbage bags of bottle caps bid against one another for prizes. 

 

Anyway, these are three films I saw after that when I (one would hope) was a more mature film viewer. I liked them at the time. 

 

They have not aged well. Note: there are spoilers.

 

It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World 

1963. Spencer Tracy and about a million top drawer comics.

 

This film was released on November 7, 1963. A little over two weeks later, John F. Kennedy was assassinated. I did see it prior to the assassination. But I cannot separate this film from that event. The two are too close. So, I cannot vouch for my original feelings about that film. I don’t remember being much impressed with it.

 

I do remember being excited to see it because it had a lot of the comedic figures I’d grown up with: Buster Keaton, Joe E. Brown, Jimmy Durante, and, of course, the Three Stooges. I was less interested in the more modern comedians since the one I liked—Red Skelton—wasn’t in it.

 

Essentially, a collection of characters are driving along a dangerous mountain road. A car wildly passes them by, drives off the cliff, and tumbles to the bottom. These characters go down to help and find fatally injured Smiler Grogan (Jimmy Durante.) Grogan dies but before he kicks the bucket (literally) he reveals he had hidden $350,000 in Santa Rosita State Park. The characters leave, each trying to be first to find the money. The rest of the film follows what happens to them. In addition, Santa Rosita Police Captain T. G. Culpeper is following the characters trying to close the case as his wife, career, and retirement are falling apart. Eventually, Culpeper decides to take the money himself and almost succeeds but he, and all of the other characters except the women, get injured in a big climactic scene. Finally, in the hospital, the only thing left for him is to find something to laugh about. Mrs. Marcus (Ethel Merman) who has been an overbearing pain throughout the film, comes into berate them and slips on a banana peel, injuring herself and is taken out on a gurney. The injured pursuers find this riotously funny and the film comes to an end.

 

I rewatched it earlier this year. It’s not dreadful. It does have a continuing throughline that women are either superfluous or unpleasant—note Mrs. Marcus above. 

 

Mostly, it’s just not that funny.

 

The cast really does have some of the most talented comedians of the time. And the cameo cast supporting them is equally stellar. But it is mostly slapstick and, in my opinion, not well realized slapstick. 

 

The problem I had with it by the end is I really wanted someone to get away with it. I realized that IAMMMMW was about status quo. The money was escape to all of the characters pursuing it. They all wanted out of their current lives. And they were all punished for it. At its heart, it’s a funny morality play.

 

What’s So Bad About Feeling Good

1968. George Peppard and Mary Tyler Moore.

 

I saw this one when I was old enough to more or less understand it. It was released May 24, 1968. Bad timing again. Bobby Kennedy was killed less than two weeks later. A few months after that, the 1968 Democratic Convention happened in Chicago where network newsmen were assaulted by Chicago police for being a reporter and Abraham Ribicoff castigated Mayor Richard Daley for using Gestapo tactics at the convention. 

 

That said, I liked the film even though it was a bit tone deaf to what was happening everywhere. Essentially, in New York City everybody is angry and unhappy. Artists have embraced nihilism as the only valid response. In comes a toucan with a virus that generates euphoria and a sense of well-being. It has no apparent side effects other than a strong sense of optimism. 

 

The virus infects New York with a corresponding decline in cigarettes, drinking, and car accidents. (There’s a hint that there’s a similar disinclination towards voting, which gives the mayor heartburn.) Because of the obvious problem that people are feeling good, the US Government sends its top man to stop this scourge. 

 

There’s a romantic couple in the middle of this—Peppard and Moore—who are doing their best to spread the disease. 

 

The disease is defeated. New York returns to being angry and unhappy. The couple breaks up. 

 

We can’t leave it like that so there’s an epilogue where the couple gets back together.

 

I saw this recently and I couldn’t help thinking this is the same as Mad, Mad World. When people get happy, they go back to work. Status quo is misery. The virus represents escape. And that escape is thwarted and they return to misery. They’re not punished, as in Mad, Mad World. But the misery they return to is Hell enough.

 

I found this film funnier than IAMMMMW. For one thing, the humor was based in the absurdity of the situation. To me, the problem was the film didn’t go far enough. One of the interesting things about Ghostbuster was that once the ghosts were released, the effects were immediate and fun. I wanted that for this film. I wanted the “dogs and cats living together.” I wanted that absurdity to be specific and right in front of me, not discussed abstractly.

 

At least, there wasn’t the whole women are superfluous or destructive. I suppose I can think Moore for that.

 

Waterhole #3

1967. James Coburn. Carroll O’Connor. Margaret Blye.

 

Now, we come to Waterhole #3.

 

I have to admit I liked this film in 1967. I’m not proud of that. Let me describe the plot and you’ll probably get what my issues are.

 

A shipment of Army bullion is hijacked by three men: Doc Quinlen, Hilb, and the inside man, Sergeant Henry Foggers. Quinlen takes the gold and promises to meet the other two in Durango in a couple of weeks after he’s hidden the gold. (Oh, yeah, they take a shoemaker as a hostage and the person to blame if things go south.) Quinlen meets Lewton Cole, a professional gambler and con man. Cole discovers Quinlen’s map to the gold. Quinlen, a fast draw artist, challenges Cole to a duel to make sure to keep the map secret. Cole pulls out his rifle and shoots Quinlen dead, takes the map and rides off. He is accused of murder.

 

Meanwhile, the Army searches for the gold. 

 

Cole ends up in the town of Integrity (as mentioned on the map) needing a horse. The Sheriff recognizes Cole as wanted for murder. Cole imprisons the Sheriff in his own jail and takes the Sheriff’s clothes. “A naked sheriff makes a slow posse.” Cole steals the Sheriff’s horse and rapes the Sheriff’s daughter, Billie, (which she enjoys) before taking off to find the gold. The Sheriff escapes and goes to get his horse. His daughter tells the Sheriff what has happened but the Sheriff is much more concerned about the theft of his horse and takes out after Cole. Billie follows them.

 

Cole finds the gold. The Sheriff finds Cole and the gold. Hilb and Foggers (the actual thieves) find Cole and the Sheriff, tie them up, and take the gold. Billie finds Cole and the Sheriff and frees them and the three of them return to Integrity where Fogger and Hilb are enjoying the fruits of their labor. Big shootout where the shoemaker (Remember the shoemaker? The hostage and alibi?) gets the gold. Hilb disappears for plot reasons. Cole, the Sheriff, and Fogger follow the shoemaker and all four of them run into the Army. The shoemaker is accused of the theft but it turns out he does not have the gold. The Army, Sheriff, and Fogger try to retrace the shoemaker’s steps to find where he lost it.

 

Billie swoops in and follows the now escaped shoemaker. Cole follows Billie. Billie finds the gold. Billie proposes a “partnership” which includes both her and the gold. Cole agrees provided she take him “the way I am” and they consummate the agreement with sex.

 

Afterwards, Cole gets up, dresses, and gets on his horse. Billie says what are you doing? Cole says, “that’s just they way I am,” and leaves with the gold.

 

He takes off for Mexico with the Army, shoemaker, Sheriff, and Fogger after him. Billie does not pursue him.

 

So I’m watching this, appalled. I had remembered something sketchy about the sex but there’s nothing implied here at all. It is explicitly shown as rape. It is called rape. And the rape is trivialized just the way I described it. No amount of Coburn charm (and he is quite charming in this film like he is in most of his films) can cover this over. And, in point of fact, there is not even an attempt to cover this over. There’s even a ballad sung over the scenes: “Now, raping and killing are both pretty bad/But it was the theft of old Blue that made Sheriff John mad.”

 

Remember, I’d watched all three of these films in a fairly short time. In the first two, the problem was the failure to escape the spiritual death of the status quo. Here, Cole gets away with it. Status quo escaped. Evil wins. Isn’t that what I wanted?

 

No. I wanted a scoundrel to win. Or at least escape a horrible life. But not a rapist. 

 

Like I always do, I rewrite some of this in my head. It would have been so easy, too. Don’t use rape. Use some kind of animal magnetism. James Bond does it all the time. But, no, rape it is in the movie and rape it is in my head. Inescapable.

 

I’m not sure what I’m saying with all of this. Sixties comedies range from bad to horrifying? Thank God that’s over? Then, I see what’s going on now and I’m thinking: have we really progressed at all?

 

I have some other comedies queued up to watch and now I’m nervous.

 

And, in case you were wondering if RFJ Jr is really as bad I think he is, check here and here.