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Interesting press release in my morning Eurekalert! feed

In an article published in the April 2009 issue of the American Journal of Preventive Medicine, researchers found that teenagers who preferred popular songs with degrading sexual references were more likely to engage in intercourse or in pre-coital activities.

Already, with the euphemisms. What are pre-coital activities? Heavy petting? Badminton?

Writing in the article, Brian A. Primack, MD, EdM, MS, Center for Research on Health Care at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, states, “This study demonstrates that, among this sample of young adolescents, high exposure to lyrics describing degrading sex in popular music was independently associated with higher levels of sexual behavior. In fact, exposure to lyrics describing degrading sex was one of the strongest associations with sexual activity…These results provide further support for the need for additional research and educational intervention in this area.”

If I had known this then, I would have taken extra care in putting together mix tapes for the girls I fancied.

Surveys were completed by 711 ninth-grade students at three large urban high schools. These participants were exposed to over 14 hours each week of lyrics describing degrading sex. About one third had previously been sexually active. Compared to those with the least exposure to lyrics describing degrading sex, those with the most exposure were more than twice as likely to have had sexual intercourse. The relationship between exposure to lyrics describing degrading sex and sexual experience held equally for both young men and women.

Similarly, among those who had not had sexual intercourse, those in the highest third of exposure to lyrics describing degrading sex were nearly twice as likely to have progressed along a noncoital sexual continuum compared to those in the lowest third. Finally, the relationships between exposure to lyrics describing non-degrading sex and sexual outcomes were not significant.

Students reported the number of hours per day that they listen to music and their favorite musical artists. Through a detailed content analysis, the percentage was calculated of each artist’s most popular songs containing lyrics describing degrading sex. An exposure score for lyrics describing degrading sex was then computed by multiplying each student’s hours of music exposure by the percentage of his or her favorite artists’ songs that contain lyrics describing degrading sex.

Oh, OK, I think I found the problem here. They surveyed “711 ninth-grade students at three large urban high schools”…now, I’m no expert on youth culture, but I think you’d be hard pressed to find a song popular among urban high schoolers that wasn’t about degrading sex. Of course kids listen to songs about sex.

When I was a kid, I’d hover over any material, in print, on video or sketched by a 17th c. Dutch Master in the often vain hopes that there would be some sort of sexual content in it. A kid would no sooner pass up a song about deviant sex than they would a Trader Joe’s Vanilla Joe-Joe (Crom, I love them). On the surface, there seems to be some correlation/causation confusion.

And that’s the danger of it. For all I know, this is probably good, legitimate science and there are factors here that just aren’t coming across in a press release. Mark my words, this press release will picked up unedited and regurgitated in news outlets across the land.

It doesn’t help to use phrases like “noncoital sexual continuum” as if that’s a normal everyday figure of speech. What does that mean? It sounds like the leading cause of blindness in teenage Borg. I’m assuming “noncoital sexual continuum” is how we round the bases in science-speak. Does that make it degrading? If so, I don’t know what’s normal.

How do you quantify degrading sexual lyrics, anyway?

“I’m sorry, son, that hip-hop song rates a 6.5 on the Ludacris scale and, well, that’s logarithmic and the logarithm is going to get you. Your mother and I don’t want that sort of thing in the house. You understand? Good, now here’s $20, go see American Pie 7 while your mother and I get our freak on…Gladys, where’s the butter and the Lil Wayne?”

From the oort clouds with love, we’re expecting a Green Comet this Valentine’s erm…season…

This will guarantee that:

1) Someday, we’ll land on Mars and find, inside an elaborate Martian mansion, the bodies of dozens of little green cultists.
2) Its an elaborate marketing campaign for environmentally-friendly kitchen and bath cleanser
3) Somebody’s getting super powers.

A quick note on the National Change Event. I want to say, outright, that I am looking forward to the return to right-wing conspiracy theories in the popular culture. Not that I believe any of the stuff, but the 90s wackadoo backlash against Clinton and his perceived agenda gave us X-Files, Roswell Nostalgia, Black Helicopters and Art Bell. Good stuff.

Sure, the left woo (and these are imprecise terms, people) was active then…but that was when the New Age movement took hold..all about alternative healing, angels, crystals and black t-shirts covered in wolves, bears and/or Native Americans. (I liked the music, I admit. Enya. Those chanting monks. Crap with pan flutes and dolphins humping that they used to sell at World of Science. Good stuff.)

The mainstream culture embraced both in a woo-nami that tempered the worst of either side (Art Bell quickly shut up about New World Order nonsense after McVeigh) and kept the kitsch. It was, in hindsight, a golden era when we knew who the kooks were and what they thought.

What did the The Bush Era get us? Warmed-over preachy message movies and documentaries about current events. Michael Moore documentaries with the subtlety of a day-glo sledgehammer. Bill Maher monologues with the subtlety of a Michael Moore documentary. (And don’t get me started on the Bill Maher documentaries!) The right didn’t do much better, mind you. With their guy in power, it became all about Intelligent Design, bad Pelosi jokes and other low-level, completely ignorable nonsense.

Perhaps the difference was the tone and clarity of the message. The 90s conspiracy nuts frothed about the UN teaming with UFOs to take your guns and bibles. It was fun like your favorite uncle and you couldn’t take it seriously, like your favorite uncle who wears a tinfoil beanie.

The mainstream 2000s conspiracy nuts, however, froth about Big Oil, Drug Companies, Katrina, Global Warming and Dick Cheney, none of which were fun at all. The truth is, I don’t fear corporations or Dick Cheney. The woo left always whined about such things, but I need oil and I need pharmaceuticals. Katrina, in retrospect, the Federal response might not have been as horrible as we thought at the time. Global Warming concerns me, but I’m the kind of guy that sees how technology and reasoned, sane discourse will do more good than hysteria. Dick Cheney, I could do without, of course, but he shot a guy and looked like Burgess Meredith’s Penguin.  If it weren’t for starting wars, the Bush Administration would have been enjoyably surreal.

In fact, the anti-Bush conspiracy nuts were notable not just for their unoriginality, but for the surprising way people who should know better latched on to the malevolent Bush conspiracy notion. Its one thing when late night talk radio twits rant about Clinton creating a third term for himself, but it is quite another when the intellectual (and celebrity) elite honestly believe that Bush was going to declare martial law if Kerry won in 2004. (I’m looking at you, Gore Vidal.) So prevalent are such beliefs, that Congressman John Olver of Massachucetts had no qualms about suggesting Bush was going to declare martial law in 2008.  For some, the 2000 election was just triggered something in their brains and they were never able to accept that history tumbled along on its own sloppy path without the aid of a cabal of Neo-Conservative puppetmasters.

Then there were the 9/11 Truther films and websites. They are on a class of their own: outside the mainstream paranoia, and on a completely different level and with shading of anti-semitism. So far out there, in fact, that they can’t be loathed on a absurdly comedic level like any of the Clinton Era New World Order material still floating around the Internet. They are as every bit as religious as creationists. But with creationists, you know the boundaries of the debate. With truthers, however, there are no boundaries, anything is game for their delusions.

So, its a brand new era. Will we see a return to 90s nostalgia? (And, why not, considering who’s in power in Washington!?!) Or will the right wing wooists take on the venom of the truther crowd? Let’s hope not. So far, the best the right can do about Obama is question his birth certificate, his associations with 60s radicals and his Secret Muslim past. At least they aren’t saying he killed Vince Foster…

Men’s Fitness has its annual list of Fittest and Fattest cities. Shockingly, Philly has dropped (or advanced, depending on how you look at it) in the rankings. In 2000 we were number one. 2009, number 20. That’s pretty good progress.

Of course, Philadelphia has a long way to go. Many of the fitter cities benefit from better climates and better urban design that allows for more outdoorsey activities. Philly has the Schuylkill river trails, but not much else for bikers and runners. And, as a fair-weather bike commuter, I can say that the suburbs are even worse and less accessible for cyclists. Places like Portland, OR, benefit from generally more moderate (albeit soggier) weather than Philly, but what is more important is their acceptance of bicycles.

Sure, they don’t have hoagies and cheesesteaks to contend with, but easy accessibility to exercise matters.

Still, what surprised  me was Pittsburgh’s ranking. Their weather is, in general, as bad as ours. We’re a little hotter and muggier in the summer, and they’re a little cooler in the winter.  Their food, if anything, is worse. We’re talking about people who add french fries to salads and sandwiches — not as sides, but actually part of the salad or sandwich — and that’s on top of the inch of cole slaw they usually stick on stuff.  While living in the burgh, my cholesterol tripled within days, thanks to the cheap availability of O Fries.

Even MORE surprising is that it is the only place in the Northeast listed.

Giant Rockets Could Revolutionize Astronomy, is the headline of a NASA press release (check the link, if you don’t believe me, I wouldn’t lie about this) to which my inner, early-morning snarkbot says “well, duh.”

Giant rockets could revolutionize lots of things: ice hockey, Buddhism, my daughter’s time outs for poking her little brother…

The release does give a wonderful idea of just how big the new Ares V rocket will be. Big enough to lift 396,000 lbs into orbit. That is, as the release puts it, 16 or 17 school buses or, as I reckon, about 200 average (178 lbs) adults (naked and without life support, that is, these shouldn’t be people you actually like).

In any case, yes, this thing should be able to lift a decent-sized telescope to orbit.

Confusing things, somewhat, is NASA’s own verbiage on the topic, according to the Ares V site:

The versatile, heavy-lifting Ares V is a two-stage, vertically stacked launch vehicle. It can carry nearly 414,000 pounds (188 metric tons) to low-Earth orbit. When working together with the Ares I crew launch vehicle to launch payloads into Earth orbit, Ares V can send nearly 157,000 pounds (71 metric tons) to the moon.

What’s even more confusing is all the geekspeak for the new shuttle replacement rockets. I think I got it, though, if you’re curious…

The Constellation Program is the umbrella name for the shuttle replacement.

The Orion is the capsule where the crew (about 4-6 people) sits.

The Ares I is the smaller rocket, capable of lifting 25 tons to orbit and beyond. It looks top heavy, which is fine, but it might shake a bit too much, which isn’t.

The Ares V is the aforementioned biggun.

The Altair is the lunar lander, which will go aboard an Ares V.

The Altair IV is where Dr. Morbius and his daughter Altaira live.

Meanwhile, none of this will happen for a while. The Ares I is set to launch in 2014, I believe. The shuttle, however, stops launching next year (making it very unlikely at this point I’ll ever see a shuttle launch in person).

Taking up the slack — since astronauts still need to go up and down the well — will be the Russians in their Soyuz (people mover) and Progress (thing mover) vehicles, which sensibly sit atop Soyuz rockets. (Seriously, NASA loves naming things.)

In addition, NASA is spending about $500 million or so — the cost of an average shuttle launch — on the COTS (Commercial Orbital Transportation Services) program. COTS is, essentially, a service contract to a commercial outfit that will send their own rockets up to resupply the space station.

Two companies recently won the contract: Space X (Elon Musk’s rocket company) and Orbital Sciences Corporation (who seriously have to work on their name if they are going to compete with Space X, a name that is only cool by comparison).

Space X has the Falcon 1 (which has launched before) and Falcon 9 (which hasn’t, but will soon). There’s a Falcon 9 variant called the heavy, which can carry more stuff (but less than the Ares V) They also have a crew capsule called the Dragon, which can carry seven folks and their luggage. I take back what I said, as goofy as “Space X” is, the company knows how to name stuff.

Orbital Sciences Corporation (yawn) has the Cygnus unmanned resupply vehicle and the Taurus rocket (which hasn’t lifted yet, either) I was wrong, the Taurus rocket has lifted, a number of times. The COTS entry is the Taurus II, which has yet to go up.
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With some luck and skill, both COTS contractors will get their acts together this year and we’ll see some fun by 2010, when Roy Scheider will finally learn what happened to the Discovery.

Anyway, that’s all the geekiness I can manage before the sun comes up.

Antennas? Antennae? Whatever.

Anyway, with the upcoming digital conversion, I’ve been thinking a bit about the home TV setup. We’ve always had rabbit ears around Stinkbug Manor — and I only scratched my cornea once by walking into on — but this video has inspired me to try something else.

I plan to do what the guy did in the video, create my own antenna using some household items, some screws & washers and a widget from Radio Shack. I plan on hiding it all, however, behind some sort of sheet metal wall art. A nice wall squid or octopus would look much better than the rabbit ears.

I’ll start next weekend,* I need to take stuff back to Lowe’s anyway. In the meantime, I’ll think of a pattern and a way to cut everything without shearing off my own fingers. (I can’t help but think of Eric’s birthday grill leg wound…good times.)

Wish me luck.

* unless life intervenes.

UPDATE 1/18: Life’s intervening somewhat. I bought the sheetmetal and some of the parts, but I don’t think I’ll get to it today.

JKOnTheRun is blogging from CES 2009 about LG’s new 3G Touch phone watch and, I have to say, it finally makes sense to me.

I’ve been wondering when someone was going to produce one ever since Bluetooth headsets became practical…I mean, nobody wants to talk into their wrist like Dick Tracy (or into the back of their hand like on Babylon 5).

I have yet to dig into the specs, but I see it has a music player, at least. I’m against feature-bloat, in general, but I already run headphones up my sleeve when I’m working out. Voice recognition gives it that added future-y fee — and I assume that also works with bluetooth — so that you don’t have to tap your wrist like an old Casio calculator watch. I’m also assuming that there is no email or such, so this can’t replace my Blackberry. (I wonder if it will voice-type messages…hmm…)

OK, so there’s this commercial that airs almost every night while I’m making dinner:

What I gotta know is…

…this actor Michael York?

If so, why is he slumming as an anonymous chump in a cereal commercial?  He was just touring in Camelot, for crying out loud.

I wrote this up on Facebook, just now, but I thought I’d share it here. There’s an article in the Daily Mail about Richard Dawkins and why he celebrates Christmas…and this popped into my addled, early-morning brain:

Okay, this needs work, but I haven’t had coffee yet…
Lets Have A Richard Dawkins Christmas
(apologies to Mike Nelson)

Open up your heart and let the Richard Dawkins Christmas in.
He’ll settle your God delusions while drinking lots of gin.
And Santa Claus is just a silly meme done up all in red
Propagating like selfish genes to pass along ‘fore we’re dead.

Oh, let’s have a Richard Dawkins Christmas this year!
Or Darwin’s Rotteweiler will bite you in the rear!

It’s survival of the fittest this Christmas, you better get busy
Find a mate to propagate, and replicate ’till you get dizzy!
I got the word a creationist was sneaking ID into class.
So old Dicky opened a can of reductionist whoop-ass, ohh,

Oh, let’s have a Richard Dawkins Christmas, one and all.
And this can be the rockinest…
Not afraid to be the shockinest…
This can be the Dawkinest
Christmas of them aaallllllllll!

67 years ago, on another sleepy Sunday morning, two brave young men, still wearing the tuxedo attire — and, likely, the hangovers — from a party the night before. Hopped in a Buick and raced toward an airfield as Japanese warplanes attacked all around them.

They raced to the Haleiwa Auxiliary air field, getting strafed along the way. There, two P-40s were being prepped for their arrival.

No, not Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett, but George Welch and Kenneth Taylor. Actual heroes.

So remember, if you ever have the misfortune of seeing Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor again, two unnamed men actually took off in the middle of the attack and shot down Japanese planes until their ammo ran dry. Then they landed, rearmed and did it again.

Both men continued to fly fighters in the war in the Pacific and both survived the war.

After the war, Welch became a test pilot and was likely the first person to have broken the sound barrier. (He flew the Bell X-1 two weeks before Yeager and might have broken the sound barrier in a steep dive after launch — in any case, he is the second, after Yeager, to officially break the sound barrier.)

Welch died testing the F-100 Super Sabre in 1954.

Taylor remained in the military after the war, retiring in 1967. Unlike Welch, he lived to see Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor.

He also thought it sucked.