Link to Part two (of 2): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40YIIaF1qiw
The Origins Undertaking at ASU presents the last night in the Origins Stories weekend, focusing on the science of storytelling and the storytelling of science. The Storytelling of Science attributes a panel of esteemed scientists, public intellectuals, and award-winning writers such as effectively-known science educator Bill Nye, astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson, evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins, theoretical physicist Brian Greene, Science Friday’s Ira Flatow, well-liked science fiction writer Neal Stephenson, executive director of the World Science Festival Tracy Day, and Origins Project director Lawrence Krauss as they talk about the stories behind cutting edge science from the origin of the universe to a discussion of thrilling technologies that will adjust our future. They demonstrate how to convey the excitement of science and the significance helping encourage a public knowing of science.
Video by Black Chalk Productions
Get the most current updates from the Origins Venture by following us on Facebook /ASUOriginsProject and Twitter @asuORIGINS. Speak to email@example.com queries.
A Night at the Museum
This is a single of the ultimate images I was able to squeeze off ahead of the protection guards nabbed me. Arg! I wished to get so numerous more… but you know, you know… it is the very same outdated story.
Anyway, if you ever visit Paris, you absolutely want to make it more than here to the museum of natural background. It is identified to the locals, but not to site visitors. All the other websites in Paris are fantastic, of course… but if you have a penchant for science and a love of crazy interior style, this is the area for you!
– Trey Ratcliff
Go through the complete publish in excess of at the Caught in Customs weblog.
By Stuck in Customs on 2011-07-21 ten:ten:06
Back in about 1990, I worked for two weeks at McGill University, in the division of Bodily Plant. During individuals two weeks, my boss invested most of his time out of the workplace, and I was left quite significantly on my very own with minor to do, other than answering calls from enraged individuals about the campus who wondered why the director of Bodily Plant had not received back to them for numerous days.
There was no one to flip to for solutions. I was alone in an echoing space at the finish of a hallway. My boss’ workers of underlings have been in one more part of the building, functioning on an crucial task. I only ever met one particular of them, a timid black man with trembling lips and hands, who appeared to go around all day in a fog.
So right here I was, a short-term secretary functioning for a boss who had informed me on the very first day not to bother him with emergency calls for factors like broken boilers and other ordinary disasters. I invested my days taking down messages, and passing on excuses – the boss was out on one more get in touch with, he was “on the street” – when in truth he was getting lunch with high-up administrators. I hardly ever saw him, and when he came in, he invested most of his time locked in his workplace sending faxes to a stockbroker in New York.
One day, while filing a memo I had just typed, I came across a folder filled with minutes of meetings regarding a very serious issue on McGill campus: toxic waste.
Having absolutely nothing else to do for the afternoon, I started reading through 3 years’ worth of reviews, memos, letters, and meetings, attended by my absentee boss and McGill’s top administrators, detailing the gravity of the circumstance.
Huge quantities of toxic and radioactive resources – like PCBs and dioxins — had been lying all around the campus, poorly stored in basements, in close proximity to students, personnel, and individuals at the health-related services. There had presently been circumstances of sickness and even a couple of deaths caused by radioactive waste in the basement of the McIntyre Health care Developing. And barrels filled with toxic chemicals had been standing in barrels behind buildings on the primary campus. There had been a number of near-disasters: in the summer time of 1987, torrential rains and a flash flood had caused the radioactive components in the McIntyre basement to overflow downhill into residential buildings on Peel Street.
McGill was preserving a toxic waste dump in the middle of a business and residential area in downtown Montreal.
There had been meetings with the Quebec government, but no agreement on a low cost, rapid way to dispose of the waste. So it continued to sit at McGill, the poisonous remnant of decades of military and scientific contracts that had produced Montreal a bio-healthcare Mecca.
On my last day, I gathered up about 100 pages of memos and other documents, and photocopies. When I left I had a dossier hefty sufficient to “sink McGill” – or so I was told by the Gazette’s prime investigative journalist, who agreed to meet me for lunch the following week.
He go through the very first couple of pages, said “Wow!” and shook his head. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised, but no report ever appeared.
I had created duplicates of some of the most damning stuff, and I took these to a young female who worked for the McGill Everyday. She wrote a total-page post, which appeared a handful of weeks later on. That was in early spring.
Walking across McGill campus that summer season, I heard somebody get in touch with my identify. I turned and came encounter to encounter with my old boss from the Department of Physical Plant. He was sitting in his automobile and at that distance it was unattainable to read through the expression on his encounter: friendly? Or accusing? Had he traced the article in the Everyday to me? I greeted him with a fake smile. He nodded and drove on.
A year or two later on, I heard that my outdated, short-term boss had been escorted off campus by guards, and no longer was employed by the university. I never know if this had something to do with my leaking the story about toxic waste and mismanagement at Bodily Plant. Perhaps he was just the scapegoat for a new phase of the cover up.
I stopped operating for the short-term agency. Truly, they never ever called me yet again. I suppose I broke some agreement when I stole confidential paperwork from my workplace and handed them above to folks in the press. Perhaps an individual, someplace – probably my boss – figured this out.
A wise previous woman once informed me, “It really is not what you do in existence that you finish up regretting, but what you don’t do.”
I doubt that McGill has transformed very considerably in the last 15 years. Far more probably the files I photocopied have re-labeled and put in storage. As far as I know, the dossier I put together on McGill has basically disappeared. The pile of toxic waste has possibly grown more substantial, not smaller sized. Military-health-related analysis generates a great deal of lethal material that can lie close to poisoning us for generations – we’re taught to accept this. It’s part of the value we pay out for our “well being” and “safety.”
Not lengthy in the past, I met a person who had utilized for a job overseeing employee safety at McGill. Throughout the interview, he was asked if there was anything he would refuse to do in the program of his perform. He mentioned he would in no way lie to cover up a hazardous predicament. The two interviewers paused, exchanged glances, and thanked him for his time. He never ever heard from them once again.
The investigative journalist to whom I gave my files no longer works for the Gazette, and has never answered my e-mails and phone calls. He, as well, has moved on. That’s what we all maintain carrying out. Moving on.
The Wonderful Death Machine also rolls on. I doubt that any of us can end it from eating up the globe. But we can manage our own destinies by way of the options we make.
Ann Diamond is a Montreal-based author whose most recent guide is MY COLD WAR, about increasing up in the shadow of secret government experiments conducted on young children.