Via Jane Galt, some pained analysis of the anti-Vioxx verdict.

Now, I have no idea whether or not this case was properly decided, and I haven’t read the Merck defense, nor am I competent to do so. Anyway, for all I know, it was a load of nonsense. And yet, and yet, and yet, I defy anyone to read this bit without a chill running down their spine:

Jurors who voted against Merck said much of the science sailed right over their heads. “Whenever Merck was up there, it was like wah, wah, wah,” said juror John Ostrom, imitating the sounds Charlie Brown’s teacher makes in the television cartoon. “We didn’t know what the heck they were talking about.”

More quotes from the WSJ story here.

I’d like to take a moment, for once, in appreciation of the hard work and dedication of the spam-mailing community. As part of their ongoing battle to frustrate the University’s Bayesian filters, these pedlars of horse porn and PS3s seem to have made a renewed effort to make their protestations resemble email from actual human beings. With middle initials and everything!

This, I can only suppose, is the reason we are suddenly receiving so much impassioned correspondence from the likes of Torah B. Whosoever, Sported J. Discontinuance, Discontinue B. Tenable and (my personal favorite) Trembling L. Paraphernalia. Put my name down for a dozen of whatever it is you’re selling, Trembles.

Today marks the appropriately elaborate send-off for Hunter S. Thompson. The late writer’s ashes are to be fired from a gigantic cannon modelled on the Gonzo fist. I only hope Norman Mailer doesn’t feel obliged to try and top this.

(As the media descends upon them, it sounds like the residents of Woody Creek are taking the exposure in stride. Best quote:

If you want to print the fact that neighbo[u]rs are shooting at paparazzi, please do. It might save us a little hassle on the day of the event.

In a similar vein, from the Times’ coverage, an unidentified local says:

I never liked the man, thought he was a hippie through and through, but I dont like all the gawping visitors either.

Careful on that pilgrimage, folks.)

UPDATE: Balls. After spending a futile five minutes coming up with an obscure HST piece to reference, I see the one I should have used.

Paleontologists estimate the running speed of these prehistoric killers at 60 mph. But one scientists offers a much more fun, alternative explanation for their extraordinary bone strength. They kick the bones of their prey, Kung Fu style, to get at the marrow. Pretty cool.

I do hope that if someone ever kicks my bones open, he’ll have the decency to leave my marrow alone. I mean, let’s be civilized here.

No seriously. That’s what this post is about. I hope this will be the first liveblooging of a math doctoral defense. And you hope it will be the last. If he says something I can comprehend I’ll pass it along. Otherwise, I’ll just talk about his clothes.

UPDATE, BY OLLY: Clearly, I failed to reach my audience.

Either way, It Is Done. I am now going to the bar, where I am going to continually insist on being referred to as “Doctor” until someone punches me.

I don’t know about you lot, but after reading this, I’m thoroughly convinced. After all, would you rather be descended from apes or The Flintstones?

(Ian adds: “I’m surprised they’re using the word ‘dinosaur’, instead of the more correct ‘Jesus-horse’.”)

UPDATE TO ADD: My officemate John – my go-to source on all matters pertaining to creationism – points out the cartoon on this page, which made coffee come out of my nose.

The design might not be up to much, but you can’t argue with the message.

Incidentally, “Drink-Soaked Trotskyite Popinjays for WAR!” – via which this was found – is my new favorite blog name.

Lots of commentary, obviously, on the London bombs. Tim Worstall and Europhobia both comprehensive.

Two widely-quoted passages sum things up nicely. Worstall:

I have a prediction to make, that tomorrow well find out whether Britons are, still, in fact, Britons. Many years ago I was working in The City and there were two events that made travel into work almost impossible.

The first was a series of storms that brought down power lines, blocked train routes and so on. Not surprisingly, the place was empty the next day. Why bother to struggle through?

The other event was an IRA bomb which caused massive damage and loss of life. Trains were disrupted, travel to work the next day was horribly difficult and yet there were more people at work than on a normal day. There was no co-ordination to this, no instructions went out, but it appeared that people were crawling off their sick beds in order to be there at work the next day, thrusting their mewling and pewling infants into the arms of anyone at all so that they could be there.

Yes, well take an excuse for a day off, throw a sickie. But you threaten us, try to kill us? Kill and injure some of us?

Fuck you, sunshine.

Well not be having that.

And Europhobia:

I tell you what, if this is an “Islamic” terrorist attack, they’re doing a piss-poor job. The pubs are all packed out, people sipping their pints happily, all a tad pissed off, but basically fine with it. Nice one, Al Quaeda – you profess to be from a teetotal religion, and you’ve given the pub trade a massive mid-week boost. Result.

Also, as a side-effect of all this blog consumption from over yonder, I have only just learned that Home Secretary and national ID card proponent Charles Clarke has been nicknamed “Safety Elephant”. Nice one indeed.

Not a good day, to put it mildly.

Posting here to report that OC Publisher Dan Atkinson, although nominally taking classes in London, was skiving off on the Continent and so he and Ashley were well out of harm’s way.

Very interesting article in Dissent from Michael Walzer, here, noted for saying rather well something that I’ve been noticing for a while:

Intellectuals on the left certainly lack certainty: we no longer have a general theory, such as Marxism once was, that tells us how things are going and what ought to be done. Does that mean that we are no longer “general intellectuals” but only locally and particularly engaged-“specialists,” as Michel Foucault argued? This left intellectual writes about education, this one about city planning, this one about health care, this one about the labor market, this one about civil liberties-and all of them are policy wonks. Is that our world? Well, maybe it is ours, but it isn’t theirs. Here is the crossover again: there are definitely general intellectuals on the right. The theory of the free market isn’t a world-historical theory exactly; one might say that it is a world-ahistorical theory. But it does have extraordinary reach; it allows its believers to have an opinion about pretty much everything. In this sense, it is an imperial doctrine, like Marxism… [here he begins to lose me again – ed.]

Those of you inclined to disregard any tract featuring the M-word should bear in mind that Dissent requires a certain number of uses per paragraph as a matter of editorial policy.

Obviously, there’s wonkishness on the right: vast amounts of it. It doesn’t play into Walzer’s worldview, though, since his Right is a monolithic thing in which

the free market, individual self-reliance, the crusade for democracy, the war against terrorism, heterosexual marriage, conventional sex and gender roles, religious faith, and patriotic sentimentality

come in a single package with a ribbon on top. He also exercises the partisan’s prerogative in assuming that the people on the other side are venal and uncaring, while only the scattered ranks of his side actually care about fixing the world’s various problems.

But he’s right in his main point: we’re lacking a coherent Big Theory on the left, and the result is a more cautious and moralistic Democratic party. (Which I regard as a bad thing, but there you go.) The interesting thing to me about the contemporary Right is that people with an interest in only one or two of the list of concerns quoted above – even the disfavored ones towards the end of the list – can still be regarded in some sense as being in the same big tent. Walzer (not to mention the rest of us) might benefit from musing a bit as to why this can be so.

UPDATED TO ADD: The “M-word” to which I refer is, of course, “Michel”. And the last sentence.

I’ve been lax in keeping up with this story, but the Five-Year Plan pie-fight has been drawing attention nationwide, and not just from the people you’d naturally expect to be up in arms. Here ‘s Don Herzog at Left2Right:

Regardless, those of us who favor affirmative action and diversity need to be loud and clear in denouncing travesties like the Oregon plan. So please, consider it well and truly denounced by this academic leftist.

Finally, the pieces came together. The long-awaited issue is out. We hit some stumbling blocks, but I think this one looks good. A lot of people put in some great work, including Olly, Ian and Michael — people whose hard work was essential to getting the issue done. In fact, it wouldn’t have gotten done without everyone who contributed. Good work everyone.

Warning to those with slow connections: The PDF is friggin’ gigantic.

[Update by Ian] I’ve downgraded the PDF to one that modem users will actually be able to download in a reasonable amount of time. The text will be the same, but the images are gonna look like junk.

If you’re following the judicial-nominee story, well, you probably already saw this, which makes me happy.

Reason‘s Sanchez:

People for the American Way have compiled a list of JRB quotes that are supposed to show how awful and extreme and nuts she is. They tend to make me think she sorta kicks ass.

I’m not sure. All I know is that Ian and I were in the office at approximately 9:00 pm when Don Goldman came by our office with a dolly. He saw us, took one issue of the magazine, then wrote a snide comment on one of the new boxes of issues we just had delivered to our door. He left with his empty dolly.

Now, does that strike anybody else as strange? Why would Don Goldman come to our office at night with a hand truck? Well, maybe I’m just paranoid … in any case, the issues are now safely inside.

The OC is (apparently) on its annual pre-Hate hiatus. I have just returned from assignment sleeping on the streets of Berkeley, Atkinson has convinced the staff of the Sixth Street Grill to create a margarita large enough for him to be bodily suspended therein, Ian is still at work on a system of subterranean tunnels designed to give us easier access to Johnson Hall, Melissa is engaged in strategic discussions with Ward Connerly, and Ben Hartley is off spending some quality time with his hookah.

As for our heroic editor-in-chief, I’m not sure what the story is. However, I’ve fielded three calls from EPD within the last two hours enquiring as to his whereabouts, so I’m sure it’s good news.