Record

Lots of people have clearly had far too much time on their hands this past month, as my visitor count for the month of October has now officially topped a 1000. It puts the 30 visitors/month ratio of ye early days to shame.

Thank god for global procrastination! ;-) Much appreciated!

Two left feet and stranded on dry land...

I have two left feet. That, and a rather useless sense of balance. But I'm also particularly stubborn. Which is why I landed flat out on my face in the gym yesterday. I was attempting to stand on a swiss ball. It's an exercise which is geared at improving core strength, but clearly a little too advanced for this foolish git. Thank god I generally retreat to a shielded-off part of my gym for my exercises, so no one was there to witness my rather disastrous attempt. I immediately climbed back on in an effort to restore my confidence, but failed. So... I headed for the showers in defeat. I undressed, walked into the cubicle and pressed the button in eager anticipation of a nice hot beam to ease my bruises. But nothing happened. Right then, a voice on speaker-box announced that "due to technical difficulties, the water supply will be shut off for the next 45 minutes". I couldn't help but laugh. Serves me right for waking up all cocky ;-) Anyway, I wrapped myself in my towel and headed for the sauna instead. It didn't help. I still looked like a bruised peach.

Data Falsification

A New Scientist Newsflash today reports on the sacking of MIT professor Luk Van Parijs for fabricating data. A story reminiscent of that of Jan Hendrik Schon's sacking at Bell Labs in 2002. Back then, an investigation of alleged data falsfication resulted in the withdrawal of 8 and 7 papers by Schon, from Science and Nature respectively.

It's puzzling why people, who have managed to reach that academic level, resort to data falsification. In a way, we cannot be surprised by the practice. It seems to be the norm these days for researchers to spend a lot of solitary time working on their own projects, without any real means of verification of results by a third party. How many supervisors, for instance, sit next to their protegees to verify their work? None. The very nature of academic research demands an independent work-ethic.

Although the peer-review process is in place to pick up on faults and shortcomings of scientific research presented for publication, there is no water-tight method to actually verify how -and more importantly- whether the results presented, were actually achieved.

One would argue that reproducability of results in itself is a fairly accurate method of verification. A failure by other research groups to reproduce and back up the published results would be an indication that maybe not all is what it seems. But in Schon's case it didn't quite turn out that way. For years, other research groups failed to reproduce his results, and it was widely assumed that this was merely due to a shortcoming of these other labs.

It all puts research in a spot of embarrasment. I can't imagine what the impact must be on the colleagues of the man in question. We all assume the people we work with are skilled at what they do and we trust them to do their part of the research with integrity. Because that's how the well-oiled machine of research works. We depend on each other and assume that while you do your bit of work as best as you can, your colleagues do theirs with the same ferver. We trust that we can build on each other's results and outcomes. That's how science takes steps forward.

Unfortunately, it may be this very drive to move "forward" which pushes some people to such drastic measures as data falsification. Experiments which yield no "good" results are considered a failure. I've always disagreed with this practice. There is as much to be learned from "bad" results as there are from "good" ones. Which is why I'm pleased that the past two years have seen the birth of The Journal of Null Results as well as a Journal geared at the publication of techniques which failed. Maybe in the long term, this will take the pressure off and we can all go back to what science is really all about: Observation, documentation and learning.

Focal Distanz

Spurred on by a browse through my own archives, as well as frequent visits to Mimusic's Viewmaster and a recent post on Dr.Jim's blog, I have decided to put up a new site with some of my own -rather more amateuristic- creations. It is now up and running at:

Focal Distanz

All images are clickable links and the site will be updated regularly. Roll on the critiques ;-)

Fashion Victim

I came up with the bright idea to scan & digitize all my old photoalbums. It was actually a really good laugh. Nothing beats pictures of yourself living the 80's full on. Fluorescence and bad haircuts abundant! As I scrolled through all the digitized images, it became increasingly clear that I have never really had a defined sense of style. It's hard to pinpoint my clothing in a category other than merely "casual". Growing up as a non-heterosexual geek without an older sister to steer me on course, I am quite logically fashion-ly challenged in more ways than one.

The past few months, I have started attempts at correcting this offset. I've discovered there is such a thing as a "colour-palette", which apparently needs to be chosen with utmost care. Judging by the psychedelic rainbow pile in my closet, I was a long way off finding mine. But after weeks of browsing, consulting friends, matching and cursing, I think I may have finally found my palette. And I have cleverly demonstrated it in the first pic ;-)

When a good friend *subtly* suggested this week that I "really ought to do something about that hair", I decided to finally bite the bullet on that front as well. I've long-standing issues with hairdressers, but a hot tip and a phonecall have finally resulted in a haircut I can actually live with (Thx Belle ;-)). Et voila le resultat.



PS: The digitisation activity spurred on the building of a small new website which should be up and running by Monday. Will be back with the details of the link then

Hunchback

Been incredibly hormonal & moody the past three days, but the balance is finally restored. I thankfully managed to focus the excess energy onto my PhD and in a mere three days sucessfully completed a whole week's workshedule. I'm now suffering RSI in my index finger, have a painful tennis-elbow and am steadily growing a hunchback.


So I rung this place and booked myself a relaxation massage as well as a session with the osteopath. I accept that I will resurface from this PhD as a pasty pale socially inept ghoul. But I WILL NOT accept a hunchback or the loss of my dexterity ;-)

Etch-o-Sketch

I'm not sure who this artist is really, as his/her website is quite obtuse, but the site shows the type of graphics I really like, and I wouldn't mind hanging some in my own house one day... yes even the bot-style graphics ;-) They appeal to the geek in me. I just really like the combination of sketchy outlines with the vivid messy coloring.

Marbles Lost

I have officially transgressed into very merky psychological waters.

I just woke up in terror sweats. Albus Dumbeldore (I’m NOT kidding) was cooking me dinner, whilst going over my PhD with me. He pulled open my PhD box (picture a Windows XP style magical wooden filing cabinet here) and said: “You really should contact these volunteers you know, some of them might have pulled out of the project by now.” And I said: “What are you on about?” To which he replied: “Well, your control experiments are only halfway through completion.” I rushed to the box to see what on Earth he was talking about, and discovered to my utmost horror that I had indeed “forgotten” to complete my control experiments, and that there was nothing but owl droppings (again, NOT kidding) where those files should have been.

I woke up sweating and shivering whilst feverishly trying to come up with a way to explain to my Supervisor and the Swiss Funding People that I might have accidentally forgotten to round up the last set of controls and that it took Albus Dumbledore to make me realise that *tiny* oversight.

THAT is why I am sat at my computer at 5am. Soon as I woke up, I booted the damn thing to see if all my files were still there. I should never have gone to that Sci Fi fair yesterday.

I need help. I am taking the ENTIRE day off today. "CLOSED FOR BUSINESS"

Lockdown

Mental note to self:
"When going for a "quick" drink with friends in town, make note of city car park closing hours."

It was a bit of a shock to turn up at the car park at 4.12 a.m. this morning to find it barricaded shut.

Second mental note to self:
"When faced with car park shutdown, DO NOT attempt to kick the barriers open in frustration. Persistance is futile."

L-Word

Was hunting for the L-Word (season 2) in town, but they'd run out of copies. I'll simply take that as good sign in terms of percentage of lesbians in Ghent ;-) Either that, or the men have all caught on. But I found out today that VT4 actually airs season2 at midnight... Whoop!

Sneeze Defeat

I'm ill.

*loud cough to prove the point in case*

I'm also feeling very sorry for myself. Was ill the better part of yesterday too, but this morning I cleverly decided that I simply wasn't going to be ill anymore and went into town for a pinch of retail therapy.

I pity the fool...

I sneezed my way through the bookshop. Ran out of tissue by the time I hit the outdoor store. Barely survived a coughing fit on my way to the restaurant and eventually settled down with what -I assume- was a very delicious organic mushroom soup. I can only guess, as the dozens of lozenges successfully numbed anything but my painful throat.

By the time I'd finished my soup, I'd conceded defeat. I apologised to my lunch buddy and drove my sorry arse back home. Instantly changed back into my jimmy jams, pulled the duvet off my bed and snuggled up in front of the tele with a hot cuppa tea and possibly the only movie that has always managed to make me feel better: SNEAKERS! Ahhh, to be 13 again...

Promise to come back with higher quality postings (and less sentences starting with the word "I") once the vites kick in *loud sneeze*

Beeny Again

Well, the lovely Sarah Beeny is making an appearance on Jo Whiley this morning, where they will hunt for that explanation as to why there is such a beeny-following. (Follow the link to listen live to the interview).

I was going to grab a bite to eat. But I guess I'm glued to the radio for the next three hours. Should anyone feel an urge to deliver a pizza...

Shroomies

I know I'm suposed to be PhD-ing, but a girl's got to have some light relief every now and then ;) The Mountain Leadership Assessment requires knowledge of fauna&flora, or at least some knowledge of the environment one pertains to walk through. However, I am horrible with plants&flowers and my eye-sight&hearing simply isn't accurate enough to keep up with birds. "Play to your strengths" a wiseman once said and so I did. I have decided to focus on shrooms, insects and geology.

And it's the perfect time to start with the shrooms, they are EVERYWHERE right now. My little guidebook at hand, I had a stroll around to see if I could identify a few. I walked straight into this one:

After a good ten minutes I was ecstatic, as I seemed to have found an edible one whose qualities were described as: "excellent, tastes like meal". However... at the very bottom of the page a red note warned "not to be confused with it's poisonous lookalike, see page 33". So I swiftly paged on through and indeed, there was it's seemingly exact lookalike. The only difference being that one's gills were ivory white as opposed to pink, and that the poisonous kind tends to grow in inconspicuous circles. So I stepped back from the mushroom and took a birds-eye-view of the surroundings and indeed there they were, the little buggers:

It turns out the area is inundated with Ivory Clitocybes which are so poisonous, ingestion can be fatal. I've decided a smart move would be to refrain from trying to eat any of the shrooms until I've become sufficiently skilled to properly identify them! Nature is VERY sneaky.

Huuoowge!

Ready for a big 'un?!?

I entered this year's New Scientist Essay Competition and received the dubious honour of being a "runner up" *proud grin nonetheless*. Although I missed out on the juicy wad of prizemoney and the media placement with New Scientist, I did receive a year's free subscription (whoop) and my name got mentioned in the "winners" column two weeks ago (li'l hop & bow). The REAL prize, however, was an invite to the award ceremony down in London, as it was set up as a networking event for the winners & runners up. So... I spent the last two days down in London :-)

I have to confess... I've pretty much loathed London with a passion ever since I first visited it 12 years ago. Three further visits failed to improve that opinion. Until now. I retract it all. It might have something to do with the fact that I was a "free agent" this time around, setting my own pace and direction without deadlines to reach. It was a total headrush. I managed to squeeze in the Natural History Museum as well as the Science Museum, and I have decided to become really rich and buy them both. Museumshops included. Satisfied the non-geeky side of me with a wicked night in Soho, went for a long stroll round Kensington & Hyde Park for some light relief from the traffic&exhaust fumes, and rounded off the touristy stuff with a visit to the Edvard Munch Exhibition.

I'm not very good with art. I fail to grasp artsy concepts and rarely have the patience to read what the actual piece is about. I guess I'm just a very self-centered art-observer in that I mainly care about what it means to ME. I love strolling around a gallery on my tod in a pretty random fashion. To be honest... I wasn't expecting much of the Munch expo. Only sculptures and abstracts knock me for six normally and Munch, well, he's very much the "in-your-face" expressionist who couldn't be further removed from abstract if he tried :-) But several of his paintings left me utterly mesmerised and for the first time I actually wanted to know what the painter was thinking when he painted. I'm surprised The Scream is his most famous piece. Funny world we live in.

The "moment supreme" of course, was the New Scientist event. The invite said: "dresscode: smart/casual", possibly the most obtuse guideline I have ever read. So I decided to play it safe, dressed up nicely and shivered all my way to the CC Club where the event was held :-). It turned out to be a rather informal night and the organisers had kept their promise in terms of networking opportunities. We were graced by the likes of Jeremy Webb (New Scientist editor), Roger Highfield (Daily Telegraph science editor & Radio 4 Science... erm... person), Professor Richard Wiseman, Sue Nielsen (Science journalist), Barry Gardner (Wellcome Trust press officer) and on and on it went. Equally humbling was the list of people that had acted as judges for this competition, ranging from playwrights to BBC program makers. It was rather easy to spot us dazzled students in the crowd, nervous twitches and spilled cocktails abundant ;-)

It was a fantastic night. However, I did have the most bizarre dinner experience. The girl next to me was rather... let's say... "loopy". Absolutely hilarious and lovely. But loopy. She'd finished her meal in no time and when someone jokingly asked her if she wanted half of his, she instantly replied: "Yes please", upon which the joker in question handed her his plate in a rather dumbstruck fashion. Whilst she was nibbling away at his half-a-chicken, she turned to me and said: "are you done with that rice?" and subsequently started to eat it off my plate. It's the first time in my life I've snorted my drink back out laughing. Painful.

So... would I move to London ever? I'm coming around to the idea. I'd simply have to dislodge the scottish scenery and drag it over. AAAAANDDD... I'd want to live in a permanent mooring boathouse on the Thames. Christmas wishlist. You write that down!

Patriotism

It might be PMS, it might just be how complicatedly mixed my feelings are right now about being back in this li'l flatlands zone for a while... but I got quite emotional when I heard this song on MTV the other day: "Het Land Van". You can find the lyrics here.

PS: Should anyone care for a translation, give us a shout.

Staring at the Sun

Brilliant displacement activity this morning… I mean, as a physicist, how could I not partake? I’m of course talking about the annual partial solar eclipse. I rummaged around in some of my old boxes and found the solar goggles that had been issued by the government for the 1999 total solar eclipse. I didn’t have the patience to sit through the entire thing this time around, but with some fiddling, I managed to take a snapshot of the moon and sun in the peak of their power struggle:



On another note, the New Scientist reports that astronomers have discovered a moon orbiting the tenth planet in the solar system. The planet was nicknamed Xena after the television warrior princess, and the moon has been dubbed Gabrielle, after the princess's companion. Lesbian planet naming?! I guess that makes sense... when you've depleted the greek & roman mythology source for naming, the next best thing has got to be televised fantasy lesbian mythology?! lol. Anyway... you won't hear me complain ;-)

Whet's tis tennis yer playen' ?

I got invited to an expat Hurling tournament in Brussels this weekend. Now... can I just say one thing? What the ...?!?! MENTAL! The lot of 'em! I mean, seriously... the Irish national sport is hacking away at each other with wooden sticks?!? (That explains a lot about you btw, Marie!)


Don't get me wrong. Hurling is an absolute thrill to watch. And even I found myself shouting at the sidelines for our team to kick the opponents' heads in. But who on earth choses to PLAY this game? Call me primitive, but when someone comes charging straight at me with a stick, my genetic predisposition instinctively urges me to run the other way. FAST!

Mind boggling.

I also had one of the strangest conversations ever. My friend introduced me to a bunch of British and Irish expats, and when I asked them the -to me- puzzling question: "Why on earth would you chose to move to Belgium?" They all replied: "Why on earth would u chose to move to Britain?"

... stalemate.

Fast lane to riches

The Belgian government needs money. Don't we all?! Some governments would chose to play above board and raise taxes, explaining why such is necessary and risk dealing with the unavoidable resultant strikes & protests. But not so Belgium.

In a country renown for its citizen's aptitude at finding "legal loopholes", the government has pulled a stunt worthy of its abject reputation: it has decided to "use" the law governing legal speed limits to its own advantage. These past few weeks, hundreds of traffic police have been rallied to the most obscure locations around the country in order to catch out unwitting drivers by the busload. At entry points to most of the local villages around Ghent, police have stopped and fined every car going anything from 11km/h above the 50km/h speed limit.

At a recent gathering with friends, 8 out of the 12 people present had been fined at least once in the last two weeks. Two of the 4 unfined people... don't drive. The average fine accrued by these 8 people in a matter of two weeks time amounted £125 each! I myself have so far managed to avoid any. But my very own mother has accumulated a staggering £200 worth of fines since the campaign started. Well done ma! When she got pulled over yet another time last week, the police officer actually apologised TO HER for partaking in this ridiculous campaign.

I think it's time to bring out that other Belgian characteristic: stubborn refusal.


(PS: for those of you in need of finding a legal "loophole" out of paying the entire fine... mail me. I've been enlightened about some clever dodger dealings at my last trip down the pub ;)