It's a bit of an odd week here. I've just got my e-mail and my other website back online - it was only down for six hours, but that feels like an age when pretty much all your e-mails are filtered through there. If it was still borked by tonight I'd probably have started replying through Gmail, but it would probably have confused people. So I had nothing to do but work.

The boss has been away since I got back from SVP. He returns to the office tomorrow, and as of Monday, after three years, I will no longer be a personal assistant. Instead, I suspect I'll be moving sideways in the company into a trade policy advisory role.

I got a new mobile phone last week. It's a Nokia N95 and it is a thing of beauty. I'm most impressed with the GPS and the 5-megapixel camera. I can also use a T-Mobile Hotspot anywhere in the world, as well as hopping onto wireless networks where I have permission. Incidentally, it also makes phone calls. And now I'm all google-ified (everything that can go through Google does) I can easily keep abreast of everything going on around me. I am such a nerd.

InaDWriMo starts on Thursday. My laptop is still not fixed. Now, in theory, I have a one-hour lunch-break, during which time I should be able to get a load of typing done. However, it seems to be an unspoken rule that if you want to have that hour, you need to get the hell out of the office - if you're at your desk you must be prepared to drop everything. This is universal for every company I have ever worked for... I might be a bit quiet on here, and I'm afraid you're definitely not getting any Cool Organism Thursdays until December. Not even a Thanksgiving turkey.

I still have a load of e-mails to catch up on and people to write to after SVP. I will get to them soon, honest!

While I was in Austin, Brian at Laelaps very kindly gave me an Intellectual Blogger Award.


Of course I'm very flattered and absolutely delighted to have been offered this (especially as not all my blog posts could be described as intellectual...).

So now I should make my nominations. Eeek - who to choose from?

Ask Doctor Vector - I've known Matt for four years, and on a personal level he's been incredibly patient waiting for the Cetiosauriscus paper... But I really enjoy reading his posts, and have loved his recent astronomy stuff. The post that really sticks out for me is I am not a-Muse-d from a couple of months ago.

Catalogue of Organisms - I first remember reading Chris's blog when he posted about Daddy Longlegs (and I've been boring Paul with the facts ever since, as there are at least two types of "Daddy Longlegs" that used to accompany me doing the gardening and it was fun to identify them), but his more recent offering on the Ignobel Prizes and specifically the gay bomb was excellently constructed, punchy and to the point, with just the right amount of humour.

Bayblab - It took me a little while to get used to each writer's different style of writing (and I think they're unusual in sharing the blogging, but it makes for even more output than Brian generates). It's nice to sometimes think outside the rock a bit, and of course I'm particularly impressed with their discussion of left-handedness.

Son of Schism Schasm - You probably haven't heard of Terry Anderson. He's a professional cartoonist from Glasgow, and he happens to be my brother-in-law. From an intellectual point of view, he's at his best when ranting about politics or discussing comic books and adaptations. His cartoons are pretty good too.

Highly Allochthonous - Chris and I were at university together (although I always take great pleasure in pointing out when people are older than me and Chris is no exception), so we are united in our fear of certain people with FRS after their name. Chris keeps me up-to-date with the world of geology (lest I forget about the stuff around the bones), and for a good intellectual post you need look no further than his most recent offering.

For honourable mentions, however, see my blogroll. Well, perhaps not I Can Has Cheezburger...

There is a Gary Larson cartoon (I couldn't reproduce it even if it was on the internet - Larson understandably gets most annoyed about his stuff being nicked), in which, in the top frame a man is shouting at his dog saying "Stay off the couch now, Ginger! You hear me? Ginger, stay off of the couch!" and in the bottom frame the dog hears "Blah blah blah blah blah Ginger blah blah blah Ginger blah blah blah blah blah".

I think that must be happening somewhere in the Administration at Washington University, that bastion of educational excellence in the Midwest. It is now nearly three years since I made my allegation of sexual assault (which was probably handled in the worst possible way). Remember nearly six months ago I'd had some shitty news? Yeah. Finally got my student record from the university. Nothing about the assault allegation on there. The Dean denied all knowledge - the same Dean in whose office I had cried my eyes out. The only evidence I have that the whole complaint (my actual complaining to the university) was not a figment of my imagination is a letter I sent to the acting HOD in Earth & Planetary Sciences, referencing "my official complaint".

So back in April/May 2004 I was at least under the impression that I was being listened to. I can't be bothered holding back that information anymore - I was waiting for a journalist who was supposed to be writing a long feature piece, of which I was only one of many case studies, but it's been over a year and I don't see why I should wait any longer. My assault, my story, my dining rights.

And despite everything else that went on - despite the numerous articles in the Student Life paper, a slightly more biased-in-favour-of-Josh-Smith piece in Inside Higher Ed and evident faculty outrage at how long this was all going on (you'll need to scroll to the bottom), Wash U have done naff all to ensure that the situation never arises again.

The Student Union senate have passed a unanimous resolution to hire a sexual assault coordinator. About fucking time. Maybe if I'd gone to the papers as I was leaving it would have been raised earlier, but I was a little too concerned about what would happen to the other students from the Smith Lab who had corroborated my claims if I publicised it. But the Chancellor seems to be a little dismissive to say the least. He said "A lot of people write unanimous resolutions and we look at them seriously". That's about as convincing as Virgin Media's "Your call is important to us" bullshit.

I suspect this is not an isolated incident within the university, nor do I think Wash U is the only university that will not accept it has a problem. I think the Dean, the department and the Chancellor fucked up when they dealt with me, because evidently whatever measures they put in place (I wasn't allowed to know what punishment Smith received because the university were afraid he could sue them if I knew for breach of privacy) didn't work. The Chancellor appears to still be fucking up. Yeah, I'm going to say fuck a few more times, because that's how fucking pissed off I am.

Of course, Wash U lawyers, if you think that I'm committing libel here, bring it on. A good start would be to show me any evidence that the university took any action against Smith in summer 2004 - and I want to know what action it was. It would be better to issue a statement (which I am more than happy to publish here if you wish) saying how you have worked to ensure no student, female or male, grad or undergrad, ever has to go through what I went through (and what I believe numerous alumnae from EPSC dealt with, although I doubt those women would speak to me if I asked them). The university you are hired to protect is shit at looking after its students, and if I were on the board of Trustees I would be ashamed of myself for apparently being more concerned about saving money than protecting the students.

And breathe.

Almost forgot to do this tonight. Paul and I have been catching up on the episodes of "Heroes" that we missed while we were in Texas (we're only halfway through Series 1 here so please no spoilers...), where Claire is supposedly doing a project on the manatee, and I can't get the song "Dugong" from Weebl's website out of my head. So we'll go with dugongs and manatees. The dugong (Dugong dugon) and the three species of manatee (Trichechus inunguis, T. manatus and T. senegalensis) comprise the Sirenia, and all are vulnerable to extinction. So at least I've ascertained that Weebl was wrong - the dugong is not also known as a manatee.


The coolest thing about sirenians is without a doubt the fact that they were mistaken for mermaids by sailors in centuries past.


Of course, the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen bears no resemblance to a dugong or manatee (save for the presence of a tail and lack of hind limbs), but I suspect the mistake is easily made if you're delirious with hunger and thirst and quite possibly close to death.

Yeah, this is a lame one this week, but I still need to crack out some posts about SVP, there's been something in the news that I'm angry about and I actually should do some work before my boss gets back from holiday. Sorry people, but at least I've given you the gift of not being able to get that dugong song out of your head for the next week.

Last Thursday afternoon, suitably "buoyed" by Newt Gingrich's speech, Lorin, Neil and I headed out to visit Hartman Prehistoric Garden, part of the Zilker Botanical Gardens. The directions I was given by the concierge weren't quite accurate (despite them being from Google Maps rather than Mapquest), but we did get a nice detour to the Austin Nature and Science Center, which has a pretty sweet comparative anatomy collection, even if the Dino Pit erroneously has a pterosaur on one of its logos (although it could be worse - this morning I was looking for dinosaur wallpaper to download onto my new phone, and made the shocking discovery that T-Mobile consider ammonites to be dinosaurs...).


Anyway, it was very hot, but plenty of shady bits. And while Neil and Lorin complained about having worn jeans rather than shorts, at least it made their return journey on the black leather seats of the Pontiac a little more enjoyable. I reckon the best thing I can do is to just post the best of the photos (Neil and Lorin, I'll e-mail them all to you):




















I'm really glad we went - it was a very well done garden. I could have spent ages and ages there, probably sitting with my camera trying to photograph the tiniest fronds and leaves. All my own leaf babies have survived without me for two weeks and are looking altogether far too happy (well, my Washingtonia robusta is not looking overly robust). This weekend I have an appointment with a roll of plant fleece, and the Wollemia nobilis has to come inside. I just hope we can find somewhere for it where it won't get in the way of my bonfire party next weekend.

My husband is a certified nut-job. He has decided to enter NaNoWriMo this November. So for 30 days I effectively have no husband. He is lost to The Long Watch.

Coincidentally, I happen to have at least half a dozen people desperate for me to finish Cetiosauriscus. I suspect my co-author is one of them. I am also keen to finally get that ornithopod skull morphometrics paper done and dusted. I know of another student working on a similar project, so it's in her interest and mine to get my stuff published and give her a less vague base to work on.

As luck would have it, there's a NaNoWriMo for academic work! It's called InaDWriMo, short for "International Dissertation Writing Month" or "International Academic Writing Month". As I'm not trying to do a dissertation yet, I'll go with the latter. Thanks to Dr Brazen Hussy for alerting me to this.

I'm going to pledge the following:

1. At least 10,000 words on the Cetiosauriscus manuscript. Now, this may go up - I'm not sure exactly how much I have to play with for a JVP paper (I'd expect not to go above 15,000 though). My original masters thesis was 7,500 words.
2. At least 10,000 words on the ornithopod geometric morphometrics paper. I haven't even started trying to pull this together as a paper yet, but the advantage is that it's a single-authored paper, so when I think it's ready to go, it's ready to go (subject to giving it to everyone I can think of to read through first!).

Somewhere, Jerry Harris, Mike Taylor, Matt Wedel and Jeff Wilson have just bounced a bit in their seats at the prospect of that bloody dinosaur finally getting published. It's not a lot to write - no more than 1,000 words a day would do it very comfortably. And as I've surely done that in my posts today, I'm more than happy with this as a target. All I get at the end of it is incredible joy at finishing (and a couple of manuscripts worth sending off), or embarrassment and despair if I don't do it. Failure itself is enough to ensure I don't fail.

What do you think? Am I crazy or is this the best idea I've had since I told you all about the isolated vertebrae last week?

One of the things I loved about the Norman, St Paul and Denver conferences was arriving at the airport and playing "Spot the SVP attendee". A poster tube was always a dead giveaway. I missed the little boost of excitement at the airport when we drove into Mesa in 2005, so it was really nice to have the chance to hang around at Austin airport to pick up Lorin. Austin seemed even more humid than San Antonio, but then it was raining a bit at the airport, so it was to be expected. Once we'd checked into the room, we were joined by Lorin's room-mates for lunch. Walking around Austin, we saw a number of dead bats! I'm not even used to seeing dead birds or squirrels at home - do our predators just get the dead stuff before I ever get to see them or do more things die in Texas than the carnivores can manage?


After lunch (and quite possibly the funniest incident ever to happen at a conference, involving palaeontological heckling followed by a collision with a parking meter), Lorin, Paul and I headed to 6th Street, and to Darwin's Pub, where we drank a few rounds, chatted to the barman and then finished up with a game of darts. Back to the hotel, where we stayed up chatting to anyone and everyone who came through the revolving doors. It felt really good to be back. And I finally got to meet Neil! And he finally got to meet Matt, aka Doctor Vector!


Wednesday was the start of the conference proper, with Kevin Padian's talk on evolution, and the town hall lunchtime meeting, which was highly charged but had some incredibly useful information. I'll make a separate post later in the week with all the information you need from that, because I suspect a lot of my loyal readers will be able to help out.

One of the nice things about this conference was that there were posters every day, so no one had that 5:30pm-everyone-wants-to-go-to-the-bar slot (and despite Tom Holtz's misgivings, the 3:45pm slot on Saturday was very well-attended, even by rugby fans). Over the next few days I chatted to some great people, handed out a lot of business cards, and met most if not all the sauropod workers at SVP. I finally got to meet Mike Taylor, after years of sporadic e-mail contact (mainly him: "When are you going to write up Cetiosauriscus?", me: "Uhhhhh - soon?").

I'm a little distressed by the Cetiosauriscus greppini paper - not because of the conclusions about C. greppini (that all seemed just fine!) but because of where the authors put C. stewarti in their cladogram. Daniela Schwarz, the primary author, wasn't at SVP for me to ask about apomorphies. I think it was Mike who said I had almost certainly spent far more time studying BMNH R.3078 than they had (or was it Jeff Wilson at the post-banquet party?), so perhaps I picked up on things they didn't. Only way to find out is to a) get in touch with Daniela or b) write the damn manuscript! Or both?

I foolishly forgot to bring my abstract book to work with me and I can't be bothered flicking between web pages right now, so for the full detailed highs and lows (well, can't really discuss the lows because if I wasn't interested in hearing the talk I didn't go!) you'll have to wait a few. On a social level, I thoroughly enjoyed the talk by Newt Gingrich for entertaining oratory, but I got the distinct feeling he was all about the sound-bites, and while he seemed all in favour of science and religion as NOMA, I wasn't convinced he really truly accepted evolution. I didn't buy his book or get it signed. Friday lunchtime was the "Women In Paleontology" lunchtime talk. I went in fearing that it really was sucky to be a woman in palaeontology, and came out knowing that it was.


The auction on Friday night really was top class. This year was the first year I didn't win anything (I was going to bid on the book The Dinosaur Papers, but I was told I could get it really cheap online, about 20% of what it was going for at the silent auction), but I will make up for it by donating the Ethical Palaeontologist stuff next year, and Paul has promised a one-off donation too...


The banquet on the last night was so much fun. The speeches were fantastic! One of the recipients of honorary membership this year was Chris McGowan (and if I'd known he wrote the books about building your own dinosaur out of chicken bones I'd probably have bought one and demanded that he sign it!). Our paths had never crossed before, but in introducing him, the president said that he had completed his PhD part-time at Birkbeck. So I had to meet him. And I figured this would perhaps help out all the people who looked at my "Birkbeck, University of London" badge and variously thought I was at Bristol, "Burbeck" or "Brickbeck", to have someone they'd actually heard of from there. And as luck would have it, Neil knows Chris well, so I asked him to introduce me, and we had a wonderful long chat, in which he gave me so much encouragement (and reminded me of the importance of having a supportive spouse off whom you can bounce ideas). I hope to keep in touch with Chris over the course of my PhD and beyond!

Of course the Ghost of PhDs Past raised his ugly head [EDIT: that was poor phrasing on my part - he wasn't there in person, but it was impossible to avoid hearing his name mentioned], and all I want to say at this point is - please, if you want to know what actually happened at Wash U, e-mail me. If you want to know if I'm telling the truth, let's go for a beer or coffee or lunch and you can see for yourself if you think I'm lying. If you suspect that the whole story never hit the press (you'd be correct) let me be the one to tell you the rest of it. I'm the one whose PhD career suffered almost irreparably, who wasn't allowed to claim as much money from the university as she wanted to in order to clear her debts from moving trans-Atlantic twice in under a year (and who will be paying off these debts until she is 33), who wasn't able to maintain a veil of anonymity and waltz straight into another PhD programme with no blemish on her reputation. Is it too much to ask for me to have dining rights on this? There is not a single other person in this whole world who knows what it was like.

But that couldn't even burst the bubble of excitement from the conference. I want to finish with a few quotes I want to keep close to me over the next year at least, just so if I start to feel deflated I can come back to this page and remotivate myself. These were said to me over the course of the meeting (names withheld to protect the supportive):

We really missed you last year.

We are definitely better off with you than without you.

I've been wishing for years that someone would do the geometric morphometrics of sauropod vertebrae.

Please write the Cetiosauriscus monograph. We're all depending on you!

So I feel on top of the world for that. I have people to write to (a nice follow-up to do post-meeting, although I've already got in touch with some people through Facebook and Myspace), more blog posts on Hartman Prehistoric Garden, an issue raised by the Women In Paleontology lunch, and I suppose I have a sauropod to describe.

Oh man, what a holiday! I was exhausted before we even got to the conference. We flew from Gatwick to Dallas-Fort Worth with American, and (knowing that they charge an arm and a leg for booze) decided to treat ourselves to a stay in the executive lounge at Gatwick to stock up on gin and tonic.


On the plane, I was subjected to:

Julia's First Law Of Travel
The commencement of turbulence on a flight is inextricably linked to the moment you lift the cup of red wine/cola/coffee to your lips. The severity of the turbulence is inversely proportional to the lightness of the trousers.

So then we picked up the rental car and learned:

Julia's Second Law Of Travel
The length of time it takes to collect a car from the rental desk is wholly independent of the amount of organisation and pre-payment you have already carried out in that respect.

But they did let us upgrade to a Pontiac G6 Coupe, so that was nice. Mapquest sent us on a wild goose chase around north-west Dallas, before we finally found our Super 8 motel. And then we discovered:

Julia's Third Law Of Travel
Your room's distance from the main entrance to the hotel is inversely proportional to the price you paid when you reserved the room online.

After a morning of very successful shopping, where Paul got to play with the new iPhone, he decided he didn't really care about seeing the JFK museum or the grassy knoll, and so we just headed west. ReBecca suggested we stop in Abilene, a nice big town with plenty of stuff to do, but Paul and I decided we'd go a little further, so we found Sweetwater. Much smaller, but they had this amazing website - I have never seen so much son et lumière on such a small website. We feared it might turn into this holiday's Gillette (ask me about that stay on our honeymoon sometime...), but then we found out the high school football team, the Sweetwater Mustangs were playing at home, and I'd never been to a football game before.


Word got round that there was a British couple at the game, and we were interviewed for the half-time slot on the local radio station KXOX. Then we were allowed to stay on the touch line and watch the rest of the game from there!


We headed out early the next morning to Carlsbad. Unlike the last time I went to the Caverns, there were hardly any visitors at the natural entrance, and Paul and I had a very peaceful walk down. The lack of people, however, rather enhanced the smell of guano, and mixed with the stale air in the cave made Paul feel a bit queasy.


But it was good fun, and we had a little time to spare before we went back up to the Caverns for the bat flight. We weren't able to take photos in the vicinity of the cave, but there were so many car radios and mobile phones being used in the car park, that I thought it would probably be okay to take a short film when we were sufficiently far away from them.

Lucy's Mexicali Restaurant had been a mainstay of my fieldtrip to Texas and New Mexico some six years ago. The food was always rather average, but the main reason we went there was for their legendary 46oz margaritas. So I was very upset when we turned up for dinner and discovered that they don't do them anymore (and the ones they served us were rather poor). This was really where the "Land of Disenchantment" (as coined by Neil at SVP) started to show its true colours. The next day we drove back into Texas and headed to Guadalupe Mountains National Park. I had threatened to take Paul on the "McKittrick Canyon Death March" but relented and we hiked to Pratt's Lodge instead.


On the way back from the lodge I sent Paul in front of me as I'd been in front going and had spotted all these cool animals, which of course scuttled/crawled/flew away upon seeing me. So I figured Paul would stand a chance of seeing them if he went before me. It was not to be - halfway along the trail, a snake (we think it was a patchnose of some sort - the long stripes down its side were a give-away) went straight between my feet! Paul of course didn't see it as it was behind him. Seems like I was quite lucky to see it as it's so fast-moving. There certainly wasn't time to get a photograph. Did see a very tame earless lizard (Cophosaurus texanus) that in one shot (not shown here) was happy enough for me to get my SVP scale bar down next to it...


Then back into New Mexico for a long and ultimately disappointing drive to White Sands and Las Cruces. Mapquest fucked up again, and told us that it would take about an hour less than it actually did take to get to White Sands National Monument (I did not stop, and I drove 2 miles above the speed limit all the way except for getting stuck behind some jerk who couldn't go above 30mph in his SUV...).


Although I saw an amazing "sky-on-fire" sunset (as Will called it) above the Organ Mountains, we didn't get to WSNM until half an hour after the gates had evidently shut. I was absolutely gutted. In fact I had a bit of a cry in the car park. This was then compounded by Mapquest taking us through some dodgy-looking scary parts of Las Cruces to get to our hotel, and when we finally reached Old Mesilla, the whole place was shut and we couldn't eat at La Posta as Will had suggested. After an hour of driving around to find somewhere that was a) open and b) not a chain we gave up and went to Dairy Queen, where they had switched off the shake machine and where a lad who looked like he had eaten not only all the pies but most of the stocks in the restaurant proceeded to make himself a dipped cone and inhale it in one rather than serve our food. And to add insult to injury they forgot we were waiting for our food and locked us inside. But for the fact that I was ready to pass out asleep, I could possibly have killed people. Starting with the fat kid. One disappointing "hot" breakfast the next morning, and we could not wait to get the hell out of New Mexico and into Texas again. We thought up a new motto for the state: "If it's not shut, it's shit", which isn't entirely fair, but for whatever reason it was a bitterly disappointing two days.


San Antonio more than made up for it, though, despite us coming in at the wrong end of a 10 hour drive (yeah, Mapquest said eight, and petrol and pee breaks did not come to another two hours on top). We eventually got the riverside room I'd asked for, and went for a bit of a walk before having dinner right by the river, along with 30oz margaritas. We were too stuffed to party more (Paul missed out on his trip to Coyote Ugly, sadly), so retreated back to the hotel. Paul's stomach obviously decided it wanted a night off too, and stopped digesting his rack of ribs, so he puked all that back up at 3.30am, but he figured it just meant he had more room for breakfast later that morning. The Alamo was quite cool, but I am fully aware that I cannot hope to appreciate it as much as an American can.

So onward to Austin, and to SVP (coming up in the next post, possibly with a detour to Hartman Prehistoric Garden). The roadkill we saw was (by our standards) exotic - skunks, raccoons, turkey vultures etc. But two seemed pretty unusual even for Texas - an armadillo (they don't seem to squash!) and a freakin' turtle (they definitely don't squash!!). I can see why an armadillo would be on the road but presume the turtle must have been caught by a raptor of some sort and accidentally/deliberately dropped? Answers on a postcard please (or failing that, in my comments!)...

As the title says, I'm back - both from the conference and in the discipline. Paul and I had an awesome short holiday beforehand (unfortunately circumstances conspired to make New Mexico 36 hours of intense disappointment - more on that later), and the conference was fantastic. The papers were excellent, the entertainment and social scene the best in years, and on a personal level, I have come back with such an ego boost and a real burning desire to get these damn papers finished.

It's back to work tomorrow, and I'm reasonably confident I'm going to be playing catch-up for most of that time, but I owe you at least one post about the holiday and one post about the conference, so I will try to get that out as soon as I can, along with some photos. I also need to respond to Amanda's meme and Brian's award!

But here are a few keywords to tease you...

Pontiac G6 Coupe. Sweetwater Mustangs. Ohmygod I just LOVE your accent. Bats. Lots of bats. 46oz margaritas no more. McKittrick Canyon (not the Death March). The Land of Disenchantment. 30oz margaritas make everything better. Darwin's - the 6th Street Evolution. Phenomenal exchange rate. Treinta Y Cuatro Equis...

And if you want a bit of a dinosaur fix, have a look at this cute poem Paul found for me - "I asked the dinosaurs one question when I went back in time". As Paul commented on the entry, it made me cry.

Today's Cool Organism Thursday is brought to you by Bos taurus and Gallus gallus. From the plant kingdom, all hail Oryza sativa and Phaseolus vulgaris. Capsicum annuum or Capsicum chinense (if you're feeling brave) would be nothing without Coriandrum sativum, Cuminum cyminum and Origanum vulgare. But of course all must pale into insignificance when the mighty Agave tequilana azul is considered.


Yes folks, I'm off on holiday today, to Texas and New Mexico. The weather forecast is 85°F during the day and 60°F at night. Perfect. No Cool Organism Thursday next week as I'll be midway through the annual SVP conference, but I may post some photos from our road-trip. Looking forward to seeing some of you in the hotel bar on Tuesday night!

It's been a shitter of a week so far - I've probably crammed another day's worth of working time into the three days I've been at work to try to get ahead of myself (and be able to go away without realising I should have done X task before I left as I'm boarding the plane or something...). Sorry I haven't been very active.

And I'm afraid I'm going to be letting SVP down a bit - we've had postal strikes for a week essentially here, and as such all the Ethical Palaeontologist stuff I ordered (including what I was going to donate to the auction) has not arrived yet. I'm leaving the house in 15 minutes so I don't think it's going to arrive before then. It sucks because I was hoping to have "Don't Be A Dick" emblazoned across my bosom at the conference, and of course the t-shirt I donated (along with bumper stickers) would have been popular. Maybe I'll put in a quick order to be delivered to the hotel, but right now I need to concentrate on getting to the airport in one piece. We have thick fog all over the south of England today - it looks spooky, not to mention dangerous for transport.

Anyway, see you the other side, or if not, when I'm back in Blighty.

Fortunately for me, we were out yesterday while England were playing Australia. I picked up the 9-10 score on the radio and assumed it was early in the game, so was astounded to discover that it was actually quite late and that our Jonny got three more points and won us the game on penalties.

I'm now watching my very nervous Paisley-born husband watching the Scotland-Argentina game. He's got a Blackwell Publishing stress rock (a foam gimmick from the PalAss conference a few years ago) in each hand and limitless access to cheap German wine. If you're not from a rugby-playing nation, head over to my little brother's blog for more information. I don't think he's moved from the television all weekend. Chris of Highly Allochthonous is also delighted and bewildered by the outcome of the weekend's games.

I don't think our boys will be facing the Auld Enemy in this World Cup...

Nude images shown in school talk
A politician in Ohio gave a presentation to high school students. Photos of naked women appeared on the screen. After a few seconds he realised what was happening and shut down the presentation. One quick apology later, and he's fine, not a blemish on his reputation.

Police, school get failing grade in sad case of Julie Amero
A substitute teacher in a middle school in Connecticut switched the computer on, briefly left it unsupervised and came back to discover the children had visited a sight which triggered pop-up thumbnails of pornographic images. She panics, but after a few seconds a full-time teacher comes to her aid and shuts down the computer. She is taken to court and convicted of four counts of "risk of injury to a minor, or impairing the morals of a child", which carry a sentence of 40 years in prison (thanks to Oldfart for posting this on his blog a few months ago).

What I find most abhorrent about the Amero case is not that it went to court (although I'd have thought anyone on the prosecution side who really uses a computer at home would have been well aware of the pitfalls of not having up-to-date antivirus software and a decent firewall), but that the judge refused to allow the expert witness to testify fully. The same USA Today columnist further elaborated on this. Apparently, since then, the conviction has been set aside and Amero has been granted a new trial. Hopefully more notice will be taken of the scientific experts this time.

It's just about possible that, post-Amero, the general public are more willing to believe that shit happens when you're on the internet, or that shit happens when you let someone else use your computer, or that shit happens because sometimes computers just break. But it looks like double standards to me. More scientific literacy? You could probably soundly beat the prosecutor round the head with "The Internet For Dummies" and it wouldn't do any good.

Some good news, but I'm not saying anything yet in case I jinx things (a couple of my close friends and family know of course - couldn't have kept it from them). Suffice to say, I nearly cried like a baby.

No, I'm not moving over to ScienceBlogs (although Laelaps is - go Brian!).

Nor am I pregnant. No. Just... No.

All will be revealed, in time. It's the best news I've had though since I got my PhD place back in April. And that's enough of a clue for you. For now.

I'm pretty sure I'm breaking copyright law here, but then again I'm not convinced that the Mirror are blameless in that respect either.


Yup. David Cameron's head (leader of the Conservative Party and Gordon Brown's opposite in the House of Commons) on the body of Paralititan stromeri. Now, this is unfair. P. stromeri was a highly successful animal, well-adapted to its environment, and a peaceful plant-eater. David Cameron on the other hand pay well become extinct very soon.

Moving on to plants again today, and with the arrival of my new leaf baby, Bastard, I thought I'd look at the cycadophytes. Cycads are one of the two types of plant (the other being ginkgos) that I associated with dinosaurs from a very young age. I remember having a removable sticker set with some really dodgy dinosaurs (if I recall correctly, there was a Glyptodon - not a dinosaur by any means - in this Mesozoic tableau). And in and amongst the erupting volcanoes, tripedally-balanced theropods and aquatic sauropods, there was one token cycad sticker. So, I'm ashamed to say, until about five years ago, I thought cycads were extinct too.

But of course they're not - they are most definitely alive and kicking (or in Bastard's case, spiking all other living things). They were around in the Permian period. They're dioecious - there are separate male and female plants. They are instantly recognised by their pachycaul, the bulbous stem. They're pollinated by weevils, and seeds are dispersed by animals. They have nitrogen-fixing capabilities(so will be really useful when I'm able to plant in the ground as a natural fertiliser). They are highly toxic, containing cyasin, whose byproduct is hepatotoxic and carcinogenic, and BMAA, a neurotoxin.


Now, one thing that really blows my mind is how many of them there must have been in any one area to support animal life in the Jurassic period. Sauropod ecology has always been just on the periphery of what I'm doing (measure first, ask questions later), but I presume cycads would have been on the menu for all the low browsing "lawnmower" type sauropods, and I suspect if they reached several metres in height then they could have been tall enough for high browsers. At the moment, Bastard has six leaves. I know cycads can get really really bushy, probably with 30-50 leaves on them. But still, that's not an awful lot of biomass to feed a passing Diplodocus. Obviously there were other plants around too, but the ground must have been heaving with little bushy cycads, and they had to have been pretty fast-growing.

Unfortunately, many cycad species are endangered. According to Wikipedia:

23% of the 305 extant cycad species are either critically endangered or endangered, 15% are vulnerable and 12% near threatened. Thus 38% of cycads are currently on the IUCN Red List (2004), and the other 62% are in the Least Concern or Near Threatened category (i.e. not actually on the Red List) or are data deficient.

I know my Cycas revoluta can't possibly be an endangered species if it's being sold half-price in Homebase. Sadly, I don't think there's as big a push to save cycads as there has been to preserve Wollemia nobilis, although I appreciate that it's probably been easier to obtain funding to conserve a "we-thought-it-had-been-extinct-for-millions-of-years" plant than a "if-we-don't-do-something-it'll-be-extinct-in-50-years" plant (although if there is a cycad conservation society, please point me in the direction of it). Plus, cycads are very definitely not as cute and cuddly as orang-utans, gorillas, dolphins and polar bears.

STOP PRESS: Check out this article in New Scientist - how cool is this!!

The first thing that struck me about the Metro's coverage of the new dinosaur discovery was that they had *shock* *horror* actually called the authors palaeontologists. Not "boffins", not "dino-detectives", but palaeontologists (although they did sneak in "experts"). The second thing that struck me was that they still hadn't bothered to capitalise or italicise Gryposaurus monumentensis (I give them the benefit of the doubt on the italicising because I'm not sure how easy it is to do so in a newspaper). Once my anal retentiveness was out of the way I could focus on the exciting new species.

And the good news is, that (at least for the time being) the journal article is free - click here for the PDF. I've started to notice a lot of journals making the big story paper free, at least for a few days after the release of the press release. So for those of us without much institutional access to journals, being the early theropod is the way to go.

First off, I'm really excited to see lots of photos, and the BBC website has an awesome one in full colour:


The authors have revised the diagnosis for Gryposaurus and been able to add more synapomorphies distinguishing it from Kritosaurus (it was designated a nomen dubium by Lull & Wright in 1942, but was later found to be quite distinct). All referred material for the new species was recovered from Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, hence the specific name. Paul showed a little more interest in this than he normally does, because we've actually been to Grand Staircase, albeit very briefly. G. monumentensis has a much more robust skull than G. nobilis, and a "large patch of rugose bone [...] on the midline at the anterior limit of the interpremaxillary contact", which is not seen in any other Gryposaurus species.

I have no problem with the phylogenetic analysis, which looks really thorough (I tend to use DELTRAN more than ACCTRAN optimisation, but that really depends on what an author wants to show with the data). There's good support for the clade formed by the four species. All in all, it's a solid piece of work, and I much prefer seeing full descriptions of new species like this than a hurried Science or Nature article (which doesn't always lead into a more substantial paper later).

But I'm really really excited about this, because this is more data for my ornithopod morphometrics paper (which, along with Cetiosauriscus and the fossil record stuff, is the only other bit of research I've done worth publishing). I'll post the abstract I wrote for SVP in 2004 in the comments of this post so I don't disrupt the flow. When I gave the talk I had only used line drawings (I had neither money, nor time, nor the support of my PhD supervisor to look at specimens), and I was very honest with the audience and said I'd need actual photos to compare with the diagrams. I have a fair few from the NHM, and hopefully Terry and Scott will be happy for me to use the photos in their paper - especially as there is a beautiful juvenile jugal on page 358.

Also, there is a photo of the skull and a line drawing of the same. I also spoke of how I hoped to use the dataset to assess the accuracy of palaeontological illustrations - this generated guffaws from the audience, but a few palaeoartists did volunteer their diagrams. I don't know if that would constitute a separate paper or not, but I'd love to compare the illustrations with the photographs to see how they compare.

There's a nice illustration of Gryposaurus monumentensis in the BBC News article. And this new paper (and the list of references that I should have a peek at before I try to write up my own research) has given me a bit of a boost to get on with things. Now if I only had a computer...

Gates, T. A. & S. D. Sampson. 2007. A new species of Gryposaurus (Dinosauria: Hadrosauridae) from the late Campanian Kaiparowits Formation, southern Utah, USA. Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society 151: 351-376. doi: 10.1111/j.1096-3642.2007.00349.x

My friend Usch is furious. She's just sent me a link to a USA Today blog post: Does God want women to stay home?, and a response from The Clutter Museum. Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, Fort Worth, has started offering a humanities degree with a concentration in homemaking. And it's only open to women.

Now, I know a Southern Baptist seminary attracts students with a certain set of conservative values. And the students attending such academic institutions would not have countenanced going to a West Coast university, (e.g. Berkeley, CalTech, Stanford - which I associate with very liberal-verging on socialist ideologies). And to some extent, if they want to do that in their part of the world then who am I to say anything? Other than that it looks like a bloody useless degree in teaching grandmothers to suck eggs (much like the made up degrees some of the newer universities in the UK are churning out). But it's the fact that it's only open to women that I find patronising.

Paul and I both work full-time. From the moment we moved in together, we divided up the household chores thus. Paul = washing up, laundry, ironing, vacuuming. Me = cooking, cleaning (especially the toilet), dusting. In the garden now, Paul deals with the composter and the barbecue and brazier, and I deal with the plants (we flip for raking the lawn). It's a domestic arrangement that suits me just fine. I am not a Stepford Wife, and Paul would be horrified if I was.

And here's the kick in the teeth of good old-fashioned home values - when we eventually decide that procreation is a feasible and indeed desirable activity, Paul is going to be the stay-at-home dad. Why not? He's better with kids than I am. My friend's children think he's great. He's aiming for a career (writing) which enables him to work from home. I'm aiming for a career which will probably take me out of the country rather a lot. It just makes sense. So why not give prospective fathers homemaking classes too?

I took a bit of home economics at school, up to year 9 (8th grade). Can't say I remember anything from it. I had to relearn how to bake bread this time last year. I think I made burgers (to be honest I make it up as I go along with burgers now), and probably a flan. Anyway, the moment we could choose which "Craft, Design and Technology" option we wanted to take, I plumped for Technology, and was the only girl in the whole class (and I got an A* - boo yeah!!). I can remember pneumatics and electronics, and jolly useful they are too. A few girls took "Design and Realisation" (wood-bashing). Some more took "Design and Communication" (graphics). Even more took Home Economics and Textiles, but by far the most over-subscribed class was "Child Development" (it was open to girls and boys, but presumably all the boys were either far more interested in beating the crap out of a piece of wood/metal or they thought if they signed up for it they'd be called "gay"). It was looked down upon as basically being training for all those girls planning on getting themselves up the duff before GCSE results came out. And sure enough, most of them did so before their 18th birthdays.

But even then - the Child Development classes were three hours a week for two whole years, with coursework (it involved acquiring a relative's or neighbour's baby for a bit). This homemaking module is 23 hours altogether. GCSE Child Development didn't prepare my contemporaries for having children, so how on earth is a degree in homemaking going to work?

I don't think I'm angry about it. As long as I'm never expected to cross paths with a graduate of that class they may as well do a degree that's going to further segregate themselves from the rest of society. I'm a bit non-plussed by the fact that it is only open to women, but I assign this to the same internal directory as all that surrendered wife bollocks. But Jesus H Christ on a bike - what a thoroughly boring class to take when there are so many more useful and interesting subjects, even at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Okay, I know who he is (58th Speaker of the House of Representatives, nearly ran for the Republican nomination for the Presidency, appears to really not like Dubya), but what do Americans think of him? Wikipedia seems quite neutral, and of course his own website is very complimentary (not to mention that he's battling that bottom-feeder Ann Coulter for advertising space in my Haloscan comments), but what do you across the pond actually think of him? I know that even for us "loony leftie liberals" not all Republicans in office are bad (Giuliani seems to have a lot of respect in Democrat circles, and even Arnie is doing okay for his social liberalism). And I know that some Democrats are not held in any high regard (the Economist over here keeps switching between thinking Hillary is the best thing since sliced bread and screaming in horror at the prospect of her presidency).

So give me a bit of a background here. I ask because he's speaking in Austin during the SVP meeting, on "Dinosaurs, Birds, and the Challenge of Science in the 21st Century" (more details on Palaeoblog), and I'd really like to go along. I'm assuming that no anti-evolution creationist take-the-money-from-science-to-fund-wars-in-middle-eastern-countries kind of guy would dare to speak to an audience of palaeontologists (especially not palaeontologists who I saw in floods of tears in Denver in 2004 the day after the election).

Very grateful for insight from Americans (to be honest, with a husband who's contemplating voting Tory for the first time in his life and my increasing environmental streak sending me to the arms of the Greens, it's as much as I can do to keep tabs on my own government!). And in return I will happily provide information on any British politician who comes to Bristol in 2009.

I've sorted out the Code of Ethics, and have added some short-sleeved and sleeveless t-shirts to the Ethical Palaeontologist shop. And at ReBecca's suggestion I have decided to donate one of the organic t-shirts to the SVP auction, and hey because I love you all there'll be a couple of bumper stickers up for grabs.

Next project - mugs.

As about half my regular subscribers are also bloggers, I thought you'd probably agree that this is incredibly appropriate. I suspect you, like me, spot something in a paper or online, or do something cool and think "Ooh I must blog about this".

Today's Telegraph has, on the front cover, the article Creationism can be a topic in class. I read it over the shoulder of the guy I was pressed into on my half-hour-late-dangerously-overcrowded Piccadilly Line train this morning (it's bad when environmentally-conscious me considers driving into London every day as a less stressful commute). I was quite encouraged by my quick read - that creationism can be mentioned but the teachers must emphasise that it is not a scientific theory and has no basis in science.

As we were taught about the geocentric universe and flat-earth ideas with a view to showing that these were rubbish (and yes, smart-arses I know in a post-Einstein universe the centre of the universe is whatever I define it to be, but I think that's a little beyond GCSE double-award Science), I'm delighted to see non-scientific superstition shot down in flames in the classroom.

I feel a little uneasy though. Intelligent design has often been referred to as "back-door creationism", but I worry that this is even more subtle than "teach the controversy". I would venture that at this stage the proposal is not to "teach the controversy", because it is still being taught that evolution is a theory with as much supporting evidence as any other scientific theory (and I would have thought teaching children the difference between the common-language use of the word "theory" and what it actually means scientifically is essential), and that supernatural explanations for life on Earth have absolutely, categorically NO place in a science class. But with more and more high-profile cases of children having their "human rights" violated (imposing a school uniform does not breach your little snotbag's human rights - tying them up and beating them does), I see a slippery slope from being "respectful of students' views, religious or otherwise" to having to give validity to creationism. I hope those responsible for the National Curriculum will proceed with caution, because this could be really good or it could go horribly wrong.

On a similar note, we're seeing a court case surrounding the plan by the UK government to send "An Inconvenient Truth" to schools - a plan I'm all in favour of as long as this is supplementing a National Curriculum unit on climate change rather than constituting the unit (the latter being lazy teaching). The quotes from Mr Dimmock in the BBC article are all too similar to the sort of drivel we get from creationists. Sadly, as I've said before, we're all just arguing with the same people.

Any optimism I had reading the article evaporated the moment I started on the comments at the end of the piece. It served to remind me what we're up against in the ignorant-general-public stakes. And I noticed just how vocal the creationist side was again. It's a bit like going to a school concert. The loudest child in the choir is always the one who can't sing in tune and doesn't know the words. On this occasion also, I don't think the Pastafarianism comments did anything for our side of it. The point of the Flying Spaghetti Monster was lost on the creationists. And you know they don't do irony.

Let's hope the Council of Europe comes up with something on Thursday that can guide European governments.