Tag Archives: college

Dead Fish and Atheism

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My late fish.

RIP, Bertrand. You will be missed.

This weekend, while I was at Clairmont Campus, my fish died. I also won $200 in a trivia competition. Things pair good and bad, I suppose.

So, on a slightly less macabre note: Biological Anthropology tshirts.

“Zygomatic: it’s a process!”

“I was reproductively isolated and all I got was this lousy dwarf elephant.”

Wholphin versus grizzpole, with the text “Hybridize this!”

A hobbit anthropologist uncovering a human skeleton. “They’re so big!”

“Alas poor Yorrick, I drew thee well.”

Anthropology: the most warped of the sexy, sexy sciences.

Other than that, I’ve been enjoying spending my trivia winnings on Etsy purchases–specifically a custom dress from this woman, who sews in Thailand, as part of my attempt to build an ethical, adult wardrobe, and a wine bottle serving tray from this woman as a gift from my mother, which was well-received. The purchases give me hope that I can, as I age, keep myself reasonably well-appointed without tearing my conscience apart too badly. My only worry is shoes. My Sociology course (Social Problems–we spent the first class watching a documentary on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, which was super fun) is rubbing off on me.

Tonight also marked the first Interfaith Council meeting. We ate Thai food with a group of 30 students and two professors, and we talked about faith in college. I was asked a question about how I–as an atheist–handle being alone in the world, without a God to pray to. There was also a hint of “how are you a good person without faith?” For the latter, I simply said that I strive to be the best person I can be, and to go to bed thinking that I have done as much as I can to make the world better and done as little as possible which harms anyone. It’s never been a fear of God which kept me from doing bad things–just a fear of disappointing those who love me.

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Shit My Textbook Says

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The bush baby watches you sleep.

Biological anthropology is full of bitter, bitter anthropologists. And bush babies. Image courtesy of Flickr user Joachim S. Mueller under CC 2.0 BY-NC-SA.

“Generally, it was a good idea to avoid being accused of heresy because it was a crime that could be punished by a nasty and potentially fiery death (Fig. 2-1). (p. 25)

“Many people think of paleontology as pretty boring and only interesting to overly serious academics.” (p. 110)

“How do we deal scientifically with all this diversity? As humans, biologists approach complexity by simplifying it.” (p. 110, emphasis mine)

“It’s no wonder that people resist the concept of deep time; it not only stupefies our reason, but implies a sense of collective meaninglessness and reinforces our individual mortality.” (p. 128)

“Moreover, as we have already pointed out (see Chapter 2), the creationist perspective fundamentally fails to understand the nature of science itself.” (p. 134)

— Physical Anthropology, Jurmain et. al

My Biological Anthropology textbook is written by bitter, bitter anthropologists. The figure 2-1 cited in the first quote was a painting of someone being burned at the stake for heresy. Science comes alive!

Paranoia in B Minor

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Avett Brothers Bandanna

The Avett Brothers bandanna, complete with Georgia!

This weekend I saw the Avett Brothers live in concert. It was my first concert at the Chastain Park Amphitheater. It was fantastic–the sound was great and the Avett Brothers did not stop dancing for the entire show. They were fantastic.

I went with my parents. I think I’m at the point in my life where that is okay? I’m pretty sure. Even if it’s not, I have the most excellent bandanna I have ever seen.

Flickr videos of the show are here and here. Blurry and loud and shaky, but that’s the mark of a damn good show.

On Mattering

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An abandoned bus.

Buses: bane of my existence. Image courtesy of Flickr user Trey Ratcliff. Licensed under CC 2.0.

Today I had my first big-deal, use-your-people-voice, on-the-job Situation. One of my freshmen residents, on a trip to the Atlanta campus, got lost finding her way to the shuttle station and was scared that she had missed the last shuttle of the night back to Oxford, some 36 miles away. She doesn’t know anyone at the Atlanta campus, and was lost, and was scared. She called her roommate for help.

I was on my way back from an RA scheduling meeting, and happened to bump into the gaggle of my normally cheerful-looking freshmen residents in a group, with a phone on speaker, looking worried–they were talking to my lost resident. They saw me, their eyes lit up, and they handed me the phone. They wanted me to fix things.

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On considering staying here

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My sister and I are spending our Wednesday afternoon watching Toddlers and Tiaras (her choice, not mine). A Route 66 sign popped up, because of course that shit is in the Midwest. I asked my sister–who misses Tulsa, loves Tulsa, wishes a little bit that we had never left Tulsa–whether she plans to move back to the Midwest when she finishes school.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes in the way she does that implies that I’m challenged. “I want to move up north.” I asked her whether she wanted east coast or west–she was pretty certain that she wanted east. Continue reading →