Ron Obvious
Ron Obvious's JournalScientists Seen as Competent But Not Trusted by Americans
Posted without comment. Sigh... (<-- I suppose that is a comment, really)
If scientists want the public to trust their research suggestions, they may want to appear a bit "warmer," according to a new review published by Princeton University's Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs.
The review, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), shows that while Americans view scientists as competent, they are not entirely trusted. This may be because they are not perceived to be friendly or warm.
The Wilson School's Susan Fiske finds that scientists have earned the respect of Americans but not necessarily their trust.
In particular, Americans seem wary of researchers seeking grant funding and do not trust scientists pushing persuasive agendas. Instead, the public leans toward impartiality.
The article is here.
Nvidia recreates the moonlanding to prove it wasn't fake
The video is well worth watching, I think.
Whole story here.
My old man's a dustman
Now here's a little story
To tell it is a must
About an unsung hero
That moves away your dust
Some people make a fortune
Other's earn a mint
My old man don't earn much
In fact....he's flippin'.....skint
Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
He looks a proper narner
In his great big hob nailed boots
He's got such a job to pull em up
That he calls them daisy roots
Some folks give tips at Christmas
And some of them forget
So when he picks their bins up
He spills some on the steps
Now one old man got nasty
And to the council wrote
Next time my old man went 'round there
He punched him up the throat
Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say, I say Less
I 'er...I found a police dog in my dustbin
(How do you know he's a police dog?)
He had a policeman with him
Though my old man's a dustman
He's got a heart of gold
He got married recently
Though he's 86 years old
We said 'Ear! Hang on Dad
you're getting past your prime'
He said 'Well when you get to my age'
'It helps to pass the time'
Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say, I say, I say
My dustbins full of lillies
(Well throw 'em away then)
I can't; Lilly's wearing them
Now one day while in a hurry
He missed a lady's bin
He hadn't gone but a few yards
When she chased after him
'What game do you think you're playing?'
She cried right from the heart
'You've missed me...am I too late?'
'No... jump up on the cart'
Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say, I say, I say (What you again)
My dustbin's absolutely full with toadstools
(How do you know it's full)
'Cos there's not much room inside
He found a tiger's head one day
Nailed to a piece of wood
The tiger looked quite miserable
But I suppose it should
Just then from out a window
A voice began to wail
He said (Oi! Where's me tiger head)
Four foot from it's tail
Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
Next time you see a dustman
Looking all pale and sad
Don't kick him in the dustbin
It might be my old dad
Donald where's your trousers?
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
I just came down from the Isle of Skye
I'm not too big and I'm awfully shy
The lassies say as I go by
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
I went to a fancy ball
It was slippery in the hall
And I was feared that I might fall
Cause I hadn't me on me Trousers
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
Now I went down to London town
To have a little fun on the Underground
The ladies turned their heads around
Saying "Donald where are your Trousers!?"
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
The lassies love me, everyone
They can catch me if they can
You cannot take the brakes off a Highland man
Saying "Donald where's your Trousers?"
Let the wind blow High, Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
All the lassies say hello
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
"Donald where's your Trousers!?"
I had this in mind...
How Hackable Is Your Car?
Fortunately my 2007 Jetta is not on the list. Didn't expect it to be either, of course, but this is one of the reasons I have serious misgivings about these features in a car. Not a fan of "the internet of things" in any case. It seems to me the risks far outweigh the benefits.
If you own a Cadillac Escalade, a Jeep Cherokee or an Infiniti Q50, you may not like the answer.
In a talk today at the Black Hat security conference in Las Vegas—and an accompanying 92-page paper—Valasek and Miller will present the results of a broad analysis of dozens of different car makes and models, assessing the vehicles’ schematics for the signs that hint at vulnerabilities to auto-focused hackers. The result is a kind of handbook of ratings and reviews of automobiles for the potential hackability of their networked components. “For 24 different cars, we examined how a remote attack might work,” says Valasek, director of vehicle security research at the security consultancy IOActive. “It really depends on the architecture: If you hack the radio, can you send messages to the brakes or the steering? And if you can, what can you do with them?”
http://www.wired.com/2014/08/car-hacking-chart/
Unbelievable: Brazilian courts allow "testimony" from the dead
I was just listening with rising level of disbelief and irritation to this NPR story:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/parallels/2014/08/09/338935865/letter-from-beyond-the-grave-a-tale-of-love-murder-and-brazilian-law
- Defense lawyer Rondon de Lima
This letter is then submitted by the defense to the court to exonerate the accused.
Judge Hertha Helena Rollemberg Padilha de Oliveira (no relation to Lenira) says there are many cases involving spirits in Brazil.
"If the proof is not illegal, it is lawful — you have to accept it in the process," she says.
Rather than presenting this nonsense as anything but a risable aspect of the Brazilian court system and an indictment of Brazilian culture, NPR chose to present this story with unwarranted respect and not a single sceptical voice is heard throughout. An embarrassment for everyone involved.
Our local NPR station (KUOW Seattle) is barely worth listening to anymore anyway, but if NPR itself continues its race to the bottom, we'll stop contributing altogether.
Skippy... Skippy... Skippy the Bush Kangaroo...
The other day I got up real early because of the heat. I listened to internet radio for a while over breakfast and the show covered a TV programme I watched as a kid: Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. Was that show ever on TV in America? Well, it was Australia's answer to Lassie and Flipper, featuring an animal star who appeared intelligent because the humans on the show were really thick in contrast.
The show's musical theme got stuck in my head all morning.
Skippy...
Skippy...
Skippy the Bush Kangaroo.
I went for a bike ride on the Sammamish River trail, still half asleep and singing to myself:
Skippy...
Skippy...
Skippy the Bush Kangaroo.
Suddenly I saw a kangaroo hopping towards me on the trail! An uncommon sight in the Seattle area to be sure.
"I'm seeing things. I've gone mad", I thought. "it's been coming for a while, but you've finally flipped completely, Ron. You've really done it now." The blood likely drained from my face.
As it turned out, it was a common white-tailed deer, spooked by another cyclist riding behind her. Deer don't run like horses. Instead, they hop with their legs together, so I can forgive myself for mistaken it for a kangaroo from the front in my half-awake state.
Phew! Wits still intact for a bit longer at least.
What's the oldest joke you remember?
My dad told me this one when I was about 3 or 4. As with most jokes designed to appeal to children that age, it's coarse and involves bodily functions, so look away now if you need to.
A gentleman on the train badly needs to defecate. Unfortunately, the toilet is occupied but his need is urgent, so he decides to roll down the window and do his business that way. He doesn't notice, but the train rolls into the station and after a few minutes the conductor on the platform blows his whistle to warn travellers that the train is about to leave the station again.
All aboard! Please close the windows and keep your heads inside. That goes for you too, sir, with the pale face and the great big cigar!
Well, I didn't say it was a good joke, did I?
Profile Information
Name: RonGender: Male
Home country: Middle Earth
Current location: Seattle
Member since: Tue Dec 13, 2011, 11:37 PM
Number of posts: 6,261
