Where is our sibling race?

It's too bad there isn't another intelligent species on Earth. And by "intelligent", I mean a species at least as intelligent as humans.

Imagine what we could learn from them. It would be like the competition between Apple and Microsoft -- something that makes each company better. As long as it doesn't kill or maim, competition can motivate and teach.

But there is no sibling race with which humans can compare themselves. We had a shot with the Neanderthals but they didn't make it. That's probably a terrible setback for our species. We missed out.

Sure we'd wage war with the other species in our primitive years but at some point we'd reach detente -- if we didn't wipe each other out. And perhaps a sharing of values would take place in the period after that. It's possible, anyway. It would work best if the other race was both smarter and less warlike, compared to humans. Sort of a race of super-intelligent bonobos.

Alas, we have only ourselves for reference. There's little possibility of humans ever meeting another intelligent alien race. They're just too far away -- if they're there at all (which I believe they are, and in abundance).

Even if mankind lasts for a few million years, it's doubtful we'd be able to traverse the tremendous distances between Earth and the nearest intelligent aliens. It seems we're not destined to meet these creatures.

Kids with siblings are healthier and more emotionally balanced than children from single-child families. Poor humans, we're living in isolation -- and paying a high price for it. It really is a pity.

The new microbial frontier

Interesting article about our symbiotic relationship with bacteria. It's the type of article that I suspect is interesting only to science types. But if that describes you, I think you should trot on over and read it. It's fascinating. Here's a taste:

Due to these symbiotic relationships, the scientists here propose that the very definitions of an organism, an environment, a population, and a genome have become blurred and should be reviewed. It may be, for instance, that animals are better viewed as host-microbe ecosystems than as individuals.

I've always said that a human being is a colony rather than an individual. It looks like the facts are leaning my way.

De to these symbiotic relationships, the scientists here propose that the very definitions of an organism, an environment, a population, and a genome have become blurred and should be reviewed. It may be, for instance, that animals are better viewed as host-microbe ecosystems than as individuals.

Read more at: http://phys.org/news/2013-02-bacterial-world-impacting-previously-thought.html#jCp

Plastic fantastic humanity

We humans are plastic. In case you're not familiar with this use of the term "plastic", it means malleable, changeable, fluid. We bend to circumstances, and change to accommodate them. This is why we won't be residing in flesh bodies much longer.

We can be anything. If a human mind was put it into an android or robot body, the mind would soon think of the new body as its own. And by "soon", I mean within minutes. The new body's abilities would be our abilities. Humans adapt. It's what we do. This change is going to happen, and what makes this possible is our amazing plasticity.

Let's do an experiment that extends the body. (This isn't my own creation; I read it somewhere.) Hold a pen or pencil in your hand, and run the tip over a surface such as a nubby fabric. You can feel it through the pencil, which has become an extension of your sensory apparatus. Try it on a few surfaces. Isn't it amazing that so much information comes to you from this process? We are plastic. We bend to circumstance. We can be anything.

We sense this when we drive. If you've ever hit a concrete wall or a tree with your car, you probably said "Ouch!" or some similar expletive. The reason this happens is that when we're driving, we extend our being throughout the car. That's you out there, not the front bumper.

We can't remain in our biological bodies. They're subject to ill health and they eventually wear down and stop functioning -- the ultimate indignity. We will pass on to other shores, whether machine-like or virtual. We will change and we will grow. And in the end, we will become something entirely different.

I write about these changes in my novels. Why? Because they're coming and we have to start thinking about what this means for humanity. Alas, no one thinks about the future anymore. But that's a post for a different day.

How can anyone NOT believe in evolution?

From a science news story today:

Neurotransmitters linked to mating behavior are shared by mammals and worms.

And from another story released today:

A Swedish–Norwegian research team shows in a new study that the intestines of the peculiar Penis worm develop in the same way as those in humans, fish and starfish.

If we didn't all come from the same source, why do we share many elements and traits with the "lower" animals? There is no doubt that evolution is real. People who don't accept the truth about our origins are either blinkered by religion or too lazy to think it through. Unfortunately, this describes most Americans.

Good article on the evolution of humans

Lucy, the mother of us all.

I just read a great article in the New York Times. It's an interview with Chris Stringer, a British paleoanthropologist, and it touches on so many interesting topics. It's about where humans came from, why we have 2.5% Neanderthal DNA, and whether we're still evolving. Good stuff. Here's a short excerpt about the pre-humans in Africa who were our forebears. He's discussing the situation just before homo sapiens appeared:

Populations in different areas would have flourished briefly, developed new ideas, and then maybe those populations could have died out, even — but not before exchanging genes, tools and behavioral strategies. This kept happening until we get to within the last 100,000 years, and then finally we start to see the modern pattern behaviorally and physically coalescing from these different regions to become what we call modern humans by about 60,000 years ago.

Apparently, we are the result of a mix of many pre-human populations. We're mutts.

Aside: The fact that humans have only been around for 60,000 years is shocking. The universe is nearly 14 billion years old. Earth is about 4.7 billion years old. And we've been here for, uh, about five minutes and have nearly managed to kill the entire planet in that short time. Makes you think (and shudder).

Go read the article. You'll be glad you did. Knowledge is good.

The problem in a nutshell

Grampa Homo Habilis.

In the comments on Greg Laden's blog, I found the following:

There was a sad statement in the one blog that read "I respect that you have a faith in a savior, that you even believe that you need a savior. But why is your faith so fragile that you are not willing to discover the actual facts of the long history of the human animal?"

I must say that this is one confused atheist/secular depressive. Humans are NOT animals. Humans are set apart from the animals. We are higher. We have a soul, animals do not., We are and will be accountable to our Creator on judgement day, animals will not. We are made lower than the angels but higher than the animal kingdon, made in God's own image.

Sadly, some people just do not get Gensis and it utmost importance. It is the ultimate history text in the universe. 

This is a snapshot of what's wrong with America today. Someone politely asks a religious lunatic the most important question -- why is it that you ignore the facts? -- and gets the bible thrown back at him. They don't even hear the question. Reality has nothing to do with a religious person's life. The only thing that's real to these people is the fairytale in their head. And that's why our country will make no progress in the coming years. These people are legion in America and they will destroy science and education and democracy itself if we don't stop them. Their reign of ignorance will only end when religion is seen as a nitwit hobby, along the lines of astrology.

You can't reach religious people, which is why I never try. I only make fun of them. People who can believe the sheer nonsense that we call "religion" haven't taken their brains out for a test drive. (Meanwhile, the baboons in the post below probably have. Just saying.)

We're animals. We evolved from primitive creatures. And as for humans being special, the truth is that life is life. It's all valuable, wonderful and perfect -- no matter the species. We are not god's creatures. We are the hairless monkeys of Earth. Get over it.

(And note that none of these people can spell. Not one. This is a hint about their mental processes. Messy, messy, messy.)
Image: Wikipedia 

Rats show empathy

We're even less special today than we were yesterday. It seems rats not only feel empathy but try to help rats that are in distress. Sound familiar? Yup, it's just like you and me (but not like wingnuts; funny, that). You'll find the story on physorg today.

I've said it before and I'll say it countless times: the difference between humans and other Earth creatures is merely a matter of degree.

Chimps throwing stuff

Chimp. (Image/Wikipedia)

There's an interesting article on physorg today. It suggests that chimps throwing feces is a sign of intelligence. That's the headline they pulled from the story, anyway. But it's way more interesting than that.

It seems throwing and language are intertwined. It's a wild thought: that throwing something at someone in your group may have been one of the first forms of communication -- a comment of sorts. Looking at today's chimps, they found that those who threw the most stuff, and threw it more accurately than their pals, also showed increased activity in the left hemisphere of the brain, where speech is processed.

I love the idea that throwing and language are related. It's so unexpected. This is another sign that we know next to nothing about our own brains. That's because we are an infant race. Too bad we have nukes, huh?

PS: This is a fun story too: Hive mind to sort out whale sounds. 

We live in cycles. (Shhhhh! Don't tell anyone.)

Reyes is in a wildly positive cycle.

If we look at the world around us, we see that people are not the same every day. They go through periods where they feel a certain way, and then one day they feel differently. But no one notices. I find this omission strange.

For example, take a baseball player who has 22 multiple-hit games in a row. He's on fire! But then a day comes along where he strikes out four times in one game. The cycle is over. And then what happens? He does not resume his hitting streak the day after the strike-outs. That cycle is done. Instead, he goes into a slump and the slump goes on for whatever period of time . . . until one day he hits! And then he's on a hitting streak again. C'mon, people. There's a message here. We are cyclical creatures.

Humans are pattern-seeking creatures

The offending kudzu. (Pic stolen from HuffPo).

We see funny, ridiculous stories like this all the time:

KINSTON, N.C.— Residents in an eastern North Carolina city say a patch of kudzu growing on a utility pole is more than an invasive vine. They see a likeness to Jesus Christ on the cross.

Have you ever wondered why people see jeebus everywhere? It's simple: people see patterns. It's what we do. This talent helped our ancestors to survive and that's why it persists in humans to this day. We had to see patterns, had to notice that when we traded with a particular person we always got the raw end of the deal. It was a pattern. Seeing patterns helps us to survive into the future.

It's a wildly useful talent. Early humans saw patterns all around them. They noticed that Winter comes once a year and that the seasons occur in a regular order. By keeping track of these patterns they were able to plan and survive -- and they invented science: the investigation of patterns.

Unfortunately, this human talent is active even when it's not needed and this produces useless perceptions like the faces and animals that we (think we) see in clouds. It's a talent that is always looking for an object; it can't stop seeing patterns. So we see an old man in the curl of the tablecloth, a figure in the shadows. This inerrant pattern recognition does us no good -- but we can't turn it off. It's how brains work.

We extend this talent further when we think that the wind and storms have a personality. We see a pattern and decide it's Mother Nature. But there is no Mother Nature. It's just something we once thought we saw. This talent is what gives rise to the idea of gods, a notion meant to be the ultimate summary of all patterns.

But the cloud creatures and Mother Nature and the gods are random products of aimless pattern-seeking, a talent gone mad. And those who fall prey to the god pattern see it all around them: in toast, oils spills, wood knots -- and vines.

It's a basic human capability gone haywire. When not put to good use, pattern-seeking latches on to nonsensical things and tries very hard to see them as something real. That's its job. It's like a kid that needs a project -- it just can't settle down. But it's all just static in our brains, a game that doesn't know how to shut itself off. There is no jeebus in the vines or anywhere else.

We see these things because we're hairless monkeys. We can't help it; evolution made us this way. This talent is both our saving grace and a swift portal to irrationality.

Thinking without language

Baboon, National Geographic

I found an interesting article on physorg. It's called "Monkeys might be more logical than we think". Here's an excerpt:

The implications of these findings are broader than the lives of baboons. Says Fagot: “The real question is ‘What is thinking without language?’” Without words, can creatures process the things they see and accomplish cognitively challenging tasks? These brand-new findings, he says, “suggest there is thinking without language.”

I've wondered about this over the years. It seems to me we often think without language. It's not like we're constantly talking to ourselves while we're alone. We simply do things and think of things and words don't enter the picture -- at least, at times. The question is: can we do something mentally challenging without words? Is that possible? It's interesting to consider, isn't it? (And no, math doesn't apply. It has its own language.)

So tell me. Do you think in words all the time? And does this extend to complicated tasks?