Misquote of the moment: Magellan didn’t say it, but it’s still brilliant, “shadow on the Moon”

February 21, 2015

An anonymous portrait of Ferdinand Magellan, 16th or 17th century (The Mariner's Museum Collection, Newport News, VA) Legend:

An anonymous portrait of Ferdinand Magellan, 16th or 17th century (The Mariner’s Museum Collection, Newport News, VA) Legend: “Ferdinan[dus] Magellanus superatis antarctici freti angustiis clariss.” (Fedinand Magellan, you overcame the famous, narrow, southern straits.)

From Wikiquote:

  • The Church says that the Earth is flat, but I know that it is round. For I have seen the shadow of the earth on the moon and I have more faith in the Shadow than in the Church.

    • This quotation is often found on the internet attributed to Magellan, but never with a source, and no English occurrence prior to its use by Robert Green Ingersoll in his essay “Individuality” (1873) has been located. Thus, it it most likely spurious. In that essay Ingersoll states:

It is a blessed thing that in every age some one has had individuality enough and courage enough to stand by his own convictions, — some one who had the grandeur to say his say. I believe it was Magellan who said, “The church says the earth is flat; but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and I have more confidence even in a shadow than in the church.” On the prow of his ship were disobedience, defiance, scorn, and success.

Where did Ingersoll get that thought? Wouldn’t he claim it as his own, had he invented it?

And, is it true? Can we tell anything by the Earth’s shadow on the Moon?  EarthSky.org discusses the reality, when can we really see the Earth’s shadow?  Turns out, we don’t have to wait for a lunar eclipse. More, is this false attributing perhaps the source of the old, incorrect claim that many in the days of Columbus thought the Earth to be flat, and not spherical?

Wikiquote, and the rest of us, need more sleuthing on this one.

More:


How is DDT used to fight malaria?

February 20, 2015

Can we dispel common misapprehensions about fighting malaria?

In fighting malaria, DDT is not used outdoors.  Spraying swamps with insecticide does little to combat malaria because malaria-carrying mosquitoes don’t usually breed or rest there, and collateral damage from DDT reduces mosquito predators.

USAID-paid workers conducting Indoor Residual Spraying (IRS) campaign. (Where? When?) USAID photo, via Stanford University, Human Biology 153

USAID-paid workers conducting Indoor Residual Spraying (IRS) campaign. (Where? When?) USAID photo, via Stanford University, Human Biology 153

DDT’s utility in fighting malaria comes from its persistence when used close by humans bitten by those species of mosquito that carry malaria. Malaria is a parasitic disease.  Malaria parasites complete their life cycle in a human host (victim), and any insect taking blood from an infected human gets some of those parasites.  The parasite completes another phase of its life cycle in certain species of mosquito — not flies nor other biting insects — and after about two weeks, mosquitoes can infect humans with newly-ready parasites.

Those species that carry malaria are usually active from about dusk until after midnight.  Consequently, they bite people usually as they sleep.  Because the “blood meal” is heavy, newly-fed mosquitoes usually fly to a nearby wall of the home to excrete water from the meal, so they fly with a lighter load.  If DDT, or some other pesticide, coats that wall, the mosquito will die before being able to pass new parasites on to new victims.

DDT is NOT used to spray outdoors, to fight malaria.  Among other things, outdoor spraying threatens domestic animals and any creature that preys on the malaria-carrying mosquito; as a pragmatic matter, outdoor use affects only a tiny percentage of malaria-carrying mosquitoes. Malaria-carriers tend to breed in small, temporary pools of water from rain; this transience makes outdoor fighting difficult.  Many people fail to understand this crucial point: DDT outdoors doesn’t help in the fight against malaria.  (Other outdoor campaigns can provide relief, such as elimination of old tires, filling potholes in roads, draining raingutters, and generally eliminating the mosquito breeding areas close to human homes, since mosquitoes rarely move more than about 50 yards in their lifetime.)

It’s important to realize that DDT in IRS allows a mosquito a free first bite.  The hope is that bite is from an uninfected mosquito, who will then land on the treated wall of the home and get a fatal dose of pesticide, so that spreading malaria it may have picked up from its victim, is stopped.  Bednets, which form a physical barrier, prevent even the first bite.  Bednets gain effectiveness from treatment with impregnated insecticides.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control, the lead agency in the campaign to eradicate malaria from the U.S. after World War II, explains this use of DDT in Indoor Residual Spraying, or IRS:

Indoor Residual Spraying

Many malaria vectors are considered “endophilic”; that is, the mosquito vectors rest inside houses after taking a blood meal. These mosquitoes are particularly susceptible to control through indoor residual spraying (IRS).

What Is Indoor Residual Spraying?

As its name implies, IRS involves coating the walls and other surfaces of a house with a residual insecticide. For several months, the insecticide will kill mosquitoes and other insects that come in contact with these surfaces. IRS does not directly prevent people from being bitten by mosquitoes. Rather, it usually kills mosquitoes after they have fed if they come to rest on the sprayed surface. IRS thus prevents transmission of infection to other persons. To be effective, IRS must be applied to a very high proportion of households in an area (usually >80%).

Health workers sparying insecticide on the walls of a wood and adobe dwelling.

Health worker spraying insecticide on the walls of a wood and adobe dwelling, in Indoor Residual Spraying (IRS). CDC image

History of IRS

IRS with DDT was the primary malaria control method used during the Global Malaria Eradication Campaign (1955-1969). The campaign did not achieve its stated objective but it did eliminate malaria from several areas and sharply reduced the burden of malaria disease in others.

Concern over the environmental impact of DDT led to the introduction of other, more expensive insecticides. As the eradication campaign wore on, the responsibility for maintaining it was shifted to endemic countries that were not able to shoulder the financial burden. The campaign collapsed and in many areas, malaria soon returned to pre-campaign levels.

As a result of the cost of IRS, the negative publicity due to the failure of the Malaria Eradication Campaign, and environmental concerns about residual insecticides, IRS programs were largely disbanded other than in a few countries with resources to continue them. However, the recent success of IRS in reducing malaria cases in South Africa by more than 80% has revived interest in this malaria prevention tool.

Rachel Carson understood this use of DDT, and she understood that outdoor use of DDT, such as crop spraying, or fighting insects affecting trees, could induce insects to evolve resistance and immunity to DDT.  In Silent Spring Carson warned that unless outdoor uses were greatly curtailed, DDT would be rendered ineffective to fight diseases.  Fred Soper, the super-mosquito killer from the Rockefeller Foundation who organized and led the UN’s malaria eradication effort, also understood the race against evolution of DDT resistance.  He had hoped resistance would not show up in tropical areas until the 1970s — malaria campaigns around the Mediterranean produced DDT resistance as early as 1948.  Sadly, resistance to DDT was already established in many mosquito populations in tropical Africa before Soper could take the UN’s program to them.  The UN had to abandon the campaign, as CDC’s explanation indicates.

Today, every mosquito on Earth carries some of the alleles of resistance to DDT, and many are immune to it.


Popular music as music history, or just plain history

February 20, 2015

Old Jules rambled on about Johnny Cash and Loudon Wainright III, and their differing versions, in different eras, of “The Man Who Couldn’t Cry.” Then discussion got into Johnny Horton.

Old Jules’s blog is always a good read.  Go see for yourself.

Cover of Jimmy Driftwood's

Cover of Jimmy Driftwood’s “Wilderness Road,” the first bluegrass and/or country album I owned; my father bought it from the remainder pile at a record distributor in the 1960s. He didn’t much like it, and it took a while to grow on me. Driftwood’s music is preserved by historians in Arkansas, now.

It got me thinking.  I posted in comments there:

Nice to find someone who remembers Johnny Horton.

My oldest brother went drinking with Horton in Twin Falls, Idaho, my brother claimed, after a performance. He was a great fan ever after.

I liked Horton’s performance on “Battle of New Orleans.” Wasn’t until the 21st century that I learned that song was written by Jimmy Driftwood, who taught 8th grade history before he turned to songwriting full time. Worse, Driftwood wrote it in the 1930s.

Thank God libraries keep old music around.

Ever hear Moby’s “Natural Blues?” Turns out he cribbed (“sampled”) the vocals from tracks Alan Lomax recorded somewhere in the South much earlier, “Trouble So Hard,” by Vera Hall.

Well, there you go.

Here’s the audio from which Moby sampled, Vera Hall singing “Trouble So Hard.”

And for the record, Jimmy Driftwood’s version of “The Battle of New Orleans.”  History teachers, do you find it accurate?  Do you use it in class?

Johnny Horton’s version, done for an 8th grade history class:


Malaria fight, February 2015

February 20, 2015

Timely infographic from Agence France Presse.

Some background:  The newly-formed World Health Organization (WHO) estimated worldwide malaria deaths at more than 5 million per year, when it kicked off the ambitious but ultimately unsuccessful malaria eradication program in 1955.  Eradication hopes hung on the use of DDT, sprayed on the walls of homes in affected areas (Indoor Residual Spraying, or IRS), to temporarily knock down mosquito populations so that humans infected with malaria could be cured.  After early successes in temperate zones, malaria fighters took the fight to tropical Africa in 1963.  There they discovered that overuse and abuse of DDT had already bred mosquitoes resistant to the pesticide.  With no substitute for DDT available, WHO wound down the campaign on the ground by 1965, and officially abandoned it in 1969.

Nations who had pledged money for the fight early, cut back when DDT failed.  In 1963, about 4 million people died from malaria, worldwide.

Despite the lack of an international, worldwide fight against malaria, malaria fighters soldiered on.  Better housing and better medicines made gains.  By the time the U.S. banned DDT use on crops in 1972, pledging all U.S. production of DDT to fight disease elsewhere, annual malaria deaths had fallen to just over 2 million per year. By 1990, the annual death toll was cut to about a million per year.  Through the 1980s, malaria parasites themselves developed resistance to the main pharmaceuticals used to cure humans.

By the end of the 1990s, international agencies and especially NGOs like the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation brought new funding and new urgency to the fight against malaria.  Expansion of production of artemisinin-based pharmaceuticals provided a new tool for health workers.  Funding from the U.S., through the President’s Malaria Initiative, helped a lot.  In 2000, about a million people died from malaria.  By 2014, malaria deaths fell to under 600,000.

Parasite resistance to the new pharmaceuticals poses a new threat to continued progress.  Funding is still far short of what experts estimate to be needed, and short of pledges from developed nations.  Mosquitoes that carry malaria parasites from human to human (after a step of the life cycle in infected mosquitoes) quickly evolve resistance to pesticides; malaria parasites develop resistance to pharmaceuticals used to treat humans.  Funding to rotate pesticides and drugs falls short, causing improper use of both, and quicker evolution of resistance in mosquitoes, and parasites.

Infgraphic from Agence France Presse, on the fight against malaria, February 2015.

Infgraphic from Agence France Presse, on the fight against malaria, February 2015.


Quote of the moment: Gen. Patton’s oddly non-profane explanation of profanity

February 18, 2015

Lt. Gen. George Patton with the signal corps, July 11th 1943, Sicily. (General George Patton Museum) - See more at: http://ww2today.com/10th-august-1943-general-george-s-patton-slaps-another-soldier#sthash.dVuHaPeg.dpuf

Lt. Gen. George Patton with the signal corps, July 11th 1943, Sicily. (General George Patton Museum) – See more at: http://ww2today.com/10th-august-1943-general-george-s-patton-slaps-another-soldier#sthash.dVuHaPeg.dpuf

  • When I want my men to remember something important, to really make it stick, I give it to them double dirty. It may not sound nice to some bunch of little old ladies at an afternoon tea party, but it helps my soldiers to remember. You can’t run an army without profanity; and it has to be eloquent profanity. An army without profanity couldn’t fight its way out of a piss-soaked paper bag. … As for the types of comments I make, sometimes I just, By God, get carried away with my own eloquence.
    • Remark to his nephew about his copious profanity, quoted in “The Unknown Patton” (1983) by Charles M. Province, p. 184 (here, via Wikiquote)

One:

One glorious summer, after a couple of months of Scouting, I signed on to do air pollution research for several weeks in the field, in and around Farmington, New Mexico.  Hours were long, and the driving between sampling sites was more than 120 miles a day, between Farmington and Teec Nos Pos, Arizona.  Driving through the desert, passing the Shiprock every day, is rough duty, but somebody had to do it.

My mother’s brother, Harry Stewart, lived in Farmington.  Weekends I was royally dined and liquored, and got the opportunity to meet Uncle Harry’s friends, who included C. M. Woodbury, then city manager of Farmington.  Woodbury’s exploits on the golf course provided constant entertainment.  His opinions about having to measure air pollution from the Four Corners Power Plant and the then-under-construction San Juan Generating Station gave me great insight into local views on regional and national issues, as the Clean Air Act wended its way through Congress.

Woodbury had been an aide of some sort to General George Patton in Europe, as I understood it.  Sadly, I never did get back to Farmington to debrief him in detail about World War II, a loss of information that still stings from time to time.  I think he was with the 752nd Tank BattalionWoodbury retired in 1976.

The movie, Patton, still played in theaters, and one Sunday, over dinner, conversation turned to great leadership and whether I thought Patton was such a leader.  I hadn’t seen the movie.  I didn’t know much about Patton.  I asked what a definition of a good leader might be.  Uncle Harry and Woodbury settled on this criterion:  A good leader is someone whose followers will go to hell and back for her, or him.  Why did Patton inspire that sort of followership, I asked.

Woodbury rambled on about Patton getting gasoline for his tanks and trucks on a run through German lines that became legendary, and was portrayed in the movie.  He talked about how Patton’s troops always could count on a good, warm meal when they got a break from battle.  He talked about how proud every soldier was to be a part of that unit under Patton’s command.  He stopped, his eyes welled up and a tear, or maybe more, rolled down his cheek.

“We would have gone to hell for Patton because we knew he would have gone to hell for us. And he did.”

William Manchester once noted that, in battle, soldiers don’t die for great causes.  They fight to defend and save the friend to the right and the friend to the left.

It would have been interesting to know Patton.

Two:

We moved to Texas in 1987. Texas is a culture shock, I think, regardless where one comes from, even sometimes if one comes from Texas.  We moved directly from Cheverly, Maryland, outside of Washington, D.C.

Describing the conservative, goody-two-shoes aspects of Texas culture of that time can’t be done in shorthand.  A couple of examples:  Duncanville at the time had about 35,000 residents, and 44 churches.  Bordering Duncanville were three or five megachurches, among the largest in the nation, which drew heavily from Duncanville residents.  It was rare to meet someone who wouldn’t ask early in any conversation, “And where do you go to church?” A great, personal and close relationship to Jesus is expected to be a feature of any “normal” person’s life in Texas.  The day I drove out of Utah, I remember thinking as I rose above the fog heading up Parley’s Canyon that I would probably never again live in a place where it was so difficult to get a drink with dinner.  Then we moved to Texas.  On the surface, and often below the surface, Texans worked hard (and still do) to demonstrate that they are straighter than Mormons, and blessed because of their lack of sinning.  We don’t need to get into the ironies and incongruities of country music, Dallas culture and other now-well-identified sins of the Bible Belt.

Let’s just say, profanity was not something one publicly assented to.

I came down here to work with American Airlines, which was headed at the time by Robert Crandall.  Crandall’s use of profanity was legendary among AA executives and workers — executives, especially.  Crandall ran a tight operation with high expectations of worker achievement, especially in competition with other airlines.  “Competitive anger,” Crandall called it — and he expected all employees to demonstrate that, in appropriate, customer-serving, money-making ways.  Failures were noted, and often enough one might expect to be in a meeting with Crandall where an explanation of how and why things went wrong would be cut off with an expletive-filled dressing down that both made the victim subject understand the nature and severity of the error and pledge never to make that nor any other error ever again.

Talking about these events later, witnesses almost never said anything about the profanity.  Living in Texas where profanity was thought to make even strong men faint and swoon, Crandall’s expletives were considered instead indications of the importance of his thought, and speech, and markers that he was to be listened to.  I remember one young MBA rattled by the profanity; he left the company within a few weeks, and he wasn’t even the subject of the discussion.  But among others, especially successful managers and executives, discussion of content of meetings focused on the subject of the meetings, what was said about that subject, with unconscious excising of the profanity.

One famous meeting involved cutting costs, and the subject was security for a warehouse in San Juan, Puerto Rico.  Complaints about the cost for security the previous year led the local manager to beef up fences, get rid of the security company, and get dogs to roam the area at night.  Crandall pushed harder, and discussion turned to whether it would be even cheaper than dog food to get a sound system that would randomly play the sounds of big, vicious dogs’ barking instead.  I wasn’t in that meeting, but I heard several different accounts, all of them noting the boss’s exploration of options others might not think of, and how hard it was to please him — but not one story that included any comment about profanity, which I learned had laced the entire episode and probably made it memorable to everyone within earshot. And so they’d retell it. A remarkable piece of effective corporate communication.

How does one gauge when and whether profanity is necessary, or effective, in communication?

In one project, we videotaped Crandall talking on company issues and what he expected in the leaders the company hired as managers.  In several hours of video, I don’t recall a single time we had to retape, or edit, any profanity out.  Crandall turned off the profanity when it might pose a problem.  People who know him outside the company often express surprise that he’d ever use such language.

I sometimes wondered if Crandall was a reincarnation of Patton in at least some small way.  But Crandall was born in 1935, and Patton died in 1945.  Reincarnation is not the answer.

More:


The Testing Camera. Really just a fable?

February 16, 2015

In reality, few kids get the pep talk Daisy got from her father.

About Peter H. Reynolds and Fablevision:

Peter H. Reynolds, creativity advocate and best-selling author and illustrator, and co-founder of FableVision Learning, has created a new animated short called The Testing Camera — a whimsical poke at high-stakes, standardized testing and a reminder that real assessment is as easy, and — at the same time — as challenging as getting to really know the gifts and talents of every child.

“We’ve gone through a very test-centric decade which, in my opinion, has consumed a lot of time, energy, and resources,” Reynolds shares. “Many teachers have had to adhere to new mandates and measures that require a ‘teach to the test’ approach. Public schools redirected funding for art, music, theater, libraries, field trips, and more. It’s a discouraging picture for those trying to reach all children in creative, engaging ways.”

Reynolds, who is known for his books encouraging creativity, The Dot, Ish, Sky Color and The North Star among many others, penned this whimsical and poignant story about a young girl named Daisy who, dismayed at her art class being canceled, nervously faces her turn with the “Testing Camera.” This huge apparatus snaps at her with a few blinding flashes of light. Weeks later, her father’s reaction to the test results surprises Daisy in a most wonderful way.

“This is my gift to educators to remind them to follow their instincts and remember why they got into teaching in the first place: to see the potential in every child, to nurture those emerging gifts and talents, and to change lives,” Reynolds shared.

The film was produced by FableVision, the transmedia studio in Boston founded by Peter and his twin brother, Paul Reynolds, author of Going Places and the Sydney & Simon series. The Testing Camera was directed by John Lechner with music by Tony Lechner, and animated by a team of young animators interning at FableVision for the summer. Broadway actor Chester Gregory lends his voice to the project.

Reynolds offers this as a poster for downloading at his site.  Teachers, do you have the guts to put it up in your room?

Peter H. Reynolds poster,

Peter H. Reynolds poster, “I am not the test score.” Click image to get to a downloadable copy.

Tip of the old scrub brush to Rick Gilson.


Close one: Turns out Obama’s not the antichrist

February 16, 2015

In case you were worried:

That appeared in the Lexington Dispatch, in Lexington, North Carolina.  Wish they had that paper at my newsstand.

Read the rest of this entry »


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