2:01 AM:

Oh, yeah, camp update: two issues down, seven to go. I did manage to write the second one in time, and while it's far from my best work, 'twill serve. The paper tends to first hit its stride in the fourth issue of the summer anyway.

(The advantage of being in my ninth year on this job is that one notices patterns. Which make one feel better when one is getting off to a slow start. This, too, shall pass...)

Warning warning warning: distasteful medical metaphor coming up, not for the sqeamish.

Trying to get a decent connection to my ISP lately has been like trying to draw blood from somebody with very thin veins. You have to jab the needle in about a dozen times before you can get anything, and even then you tend to end up with a weak flow that tapers off quickly.

Now that you're all grossed out, the misery has been shared. My work here is done.

10:41 PM:

I am appalled.

Well, actually, there's nothing really new here, but... oh, let me start at the top. Just before the commercial break currently in progress on channel 5, the two most recent items on the 10:00 news were as follows:

First there was a shocking report about a drug gaining new popularity, a drug that can produce highs lasting up to two hours, a herb that is -- for the moment, at least -- legal. (Pause to collapse weakly in horror.)

Actually, this wouldn't have been a problem in itself, had they ever gotten around to explaining why this was a problem; what addictive and/or toxic properties this "diviner's sage" has when misused. But they never did, confining themselves to a sentence at the end to the effect that the harmful effects of the herb aren't known at this point. Hmm.

Judging from the tone of the piece, the logic seems to be: It gets you high, therefore it must be dangerous, therefore this is shocking news and something needs to be done!

The report after that was about computer programs that allow one to spy on somebody else's computer activities, giving people the chance to, for example, get e-mail chat transcripts from their spouses' systems.

The focus of the report was not on the privacy or ethical concerns involved. On the contrary, the theme of the piece was that this was really great software to use to spy on your loved ones, and that they were doing you a favor by calling it to your attention so you could go out and buy it right away. Nowhere was there even a hint that there might be anything wrong with it.

Bleah.

2:00 AM:

It seems that the Bush administration is proposing that fetuses be classified as "unborn children," entitled to the health benefits of children who have been born. This strikes me as a bad idea, and a misguided one; children who haven't been born aren't the same as those who have been. If the intention is to provide better health care for their mothers, the appropriate way of doing so is to increase health benefits for pregnant women.

On a similar note, I'm vigorously opposed to the "fetal rights bill" passed by the House of Representatives back in April, under which someone who causes a miscarriage while committing a federal crime would be liable to the same penalty that would apply if the mother had been killed, with the exception of the death penalty.

Both of these, I think, are clearly -- and solely -- attempts to chip away at Roe v. Wade, putting fetuses on the same legal standing as actual living people. And I don't think that accurately represents the case.

None of this, however, is what I really want to write about. What I'm really hot and bothered by is a different matter, albeit one that's being painted by many as being the same thing. Specifically: the use of fetal tissue in stem-cell research.

I'm vehemently against it.

The catalyst for writing this is Ellis Henican's column from this past Friday. I am, in general, a fan of Henican's. In this instance, however, I disagree with him. I think that he paints a extremely distorted picture of the situation.

I'd suggest you go ahead and read the column in question; I'll be here when you get back.

To sum up: in Henican's view of matters, people are dying, and stem-cell research -- which he rather inaccurately confines to stem-cell research on fetal tissue, but let that pass -- might be able to save them. The tone of the column is such that the reader is left with the impression that (a) using fetal tissue as raw material is just about the only hope for a cure; (b) research on fetal tissue is virtually guaranteed to produce a cure; and (c) anybody opposing such research must be a pro-life fanatic, willing to let grown-ups with diseases die just to further the political aims of the anti-abortion movement. All of which is poppycock.

I should admit right up front that I am not a very big fan of genetic engineering in general. I'm not saying that people have no business meddling with genes; I do, however, believe that the whole area deserves a hell of a lot more caution and respect than scientists seem to be giving it. We don't really know what the long-term effects of any of our genetic tinkering is going to be, but that doesn't seem to stop us from rushing pell-mell into the abyss. To paint the issue, as Henican does, as being one in which such research is unambigously wonderful, as being something that should be put on the fast track so that people can reap the benefits as quickly as possible seems dangerously naïve.

While I don't think fetuses are children, as such, they're still potential human life. While I agree that there are cases when concern for the mother outweighs concern for the fetus, and that abortion consequently is sometimes not just acceptable but necessary, that doesn't mean fetuses are entirely worthless. They deserve to be treated with respect, even dignity. I don't think there's any justification for using them as raw material for scientific experiments. It strikes me as -- and I hate using this term, but nothing else fits -- obscene.

My feelings on this matter are similar to Karen's on the matter of silk-producing goats. (Please note that I'm not suggesting Karen would agree with the parallel. I do not, in fact, know her views on this matter.) The degree of utilitarianism in genetic science is frightening. If it's more cost-effective to use goats as silk-manufacturing machines, why not do it? If fetuses can serve as a source of genetic material, why not use them?

I seem to be reduced to the argument that, on a gut level, it's just wrong. Or at least that it should be approached with care, considered only if there are no other viable alternatives, and carried out with sensitivity to the ethical issues involved. None of those clauses seem to be in effect here.

I can't quite get behind the idea of federal legislation banning such research, although I'm sorely tempted. I remain a moral relativist in general, and I still favor the point of view that people ought to be allowed to make their own mistakes, even when they're really big ones. I would, however, be all for a ban on federal financial support for any such research; if 'twere done, let it be by the private sector.

And I would just hope that the scientists involved would take a step back, consider what they're doing, and decide to concentrate on other avenues of research instead. (And goodness knows, there are plenty of other avenues, a point Henican ignores.) This one just isn't worth it.

I'm reading Dune, by Frank Herbert. I've never read it before, and have been told that I ought to, so I took it out from the library a few weeks ago. I got a page or two into it, didn't find it terribly interesting, put it aside for awhile (renewing it along the way), and finally got around to reading it again this Shabbos. I'm now roughly 60% of the way through it.

Thus far, I'm finding it to be not bad, but certainly not great. I suppose it might help if I'd taken out the hardcover edition, rather than the paperback, as the latter turns out to be very badly printed, adding a persistent layer of annoyance to the reading experience. Still... I'll finish the book, but at this point I doubt I'll be inclined to check out any of the sequels.

Nevertheless, one word made me very happy, to the point where, upon encountering it, I closed the book, clapped my hands with glee, and did a little dance of joy, after first checking the dictionary to make sure that it wasn't, in fact, in there. It's at the top of page 221 in the paperback:

Paul followed his mother's example, gestalting the room, seeing the workbench down one side, the walls of featureless rock.

A good neologism is a thing of beauty.

On a slightly related matter... about a month ago, I went to the college bookstore for a T-shirt. (It was perhaps predictable that I wouldn't get around to buying a Queens College shirt until after I graduated.) There were some rather nice shirts for us graduates, which tempted me, except for the little matter of the wording. "QUEENS COLLEGE ALUMNI," they proclaimed.

I think not.

I'm only one person, you see, while "alumni" is the plural form of the word. (The male plural, in fact, but Latin is one of those languages in which "the male embraces the female" when dealing with mixed groups.) As written, it didn't make any sense.

I could understand the choice of wording, I supposed, as these were unisex shirts. Using the traditional choices, they'd have had to make two different sets of shirts, with some reading "QUEENS COLLEGE ALUMNUS" and some reading "QUEENS COLLEGE ALUMNA." Presumably, they'd decided it wasn't worth the bother.

Me, I think they should have just gone with "QUEENS COLLEGE ALUM." "Alum" is a fine neologism; it fills a linguistic need, and it's instantly understandable. It isn't good Latin, but it's acceptable English, if you ask me.

Anyway, I eventually found a "QUEENS COLLEGE GRADUATE" shirt, which I bought. Problem solved.