Ableist humour

I was sent this joke by an acquaintance, who is an amputee.

I saw my mate Charlie this morning, he’s only got one arm, bless him.
I shouted, “Where you off to, Charlie?”
He said, “I’m off to change a light bulb.”
Well, I just cracked up – couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s gonna be a bit awkward, innit?”
“Not really,” he said, “I still have the receipt, you insensitive bastard.”

Yes, it’s mildly offensive, I guess, especially in this age of overt political correctness and eggshell tiptoe-age. But then there’s the point that it pokes fun at the assumptions of the apparently ableist joke teller. There’s a lesson in there, I think.

And then add the fact that it was sent from someone who has a similar disability – albeit that he is missing a bit of leg, rather than an arm. Does that make it more acceptable? Is he ‘allowed’ to tell it, but me, not?
It’s an interesting question

I remember once going to the Jongleurs Comedy Club in Oxford. One of the acts that evening was a guy in a wheelchair. He had to be lifted onto the stage. Once there, he began his set with a plethora of jokes about people in wheelchairs. It was initially awkward, and then it was very, very funny. You could almost watch the crowd thinking, “Wow. That’s a bit harsh. But then… hey – if he’s in a wheelchair and he thinks it’s funny, why shouldn’t we laugh at it too?”
And then, suddenly, he told a joke about a blind football team, and it immediately all went very awkward again. But he was completely prepared for it. I recall him using the audience’s discomfort as if he’d just done some sort of social experiment – that it was ok for him to ridicule those with the same disability as him, but that he had seemingly crossed a line when he joked about a different affliction. He was absolutely right in his observations of our reaction.

It speaks volumes to me that it’s those aspects of the evening that I remember, rather than the actual jokes – although I do seem to remember that they were funny and it was an enjoyable night out.

Obviously, I hope that I never lose an arm like Charlie, nor the use of my legs like the comedian. But if I ever did, I’d like to think that I’d somehow still be able to appreciate this sort of humour.

As for the lightbulb joke above – I think it’s very amusing.

Pigeons v Pollution

Here’s more news from London, where things are warming up, and where pollution levels will surely rise in the heady heat of those halcyon summer days. But, how best to monitor this phenomenon? Dogs with briefcases? Rats with duffel bags? No – it’s pigeons with backpacks.

Seriously:

Pigeons wearing backpacks with air quality sensors are now flying around London.

Half a dozen racing pigeons have been released into the capital with GPS devices and a 35g sensor to measure levels of nitrogen dioxide being produced in the city. The pigeons took off from their Brick Lane base on Monday.

I’m unsure as to the benefits of the pigeon-based system rather than the more traditional ground-based sensors, but hey – pigeons with backpacks!

The birds are then, using the power of the internet, tweeting those who ask for a reading.

Coo! It works – I tried it:

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The pigeon people suggest that close opn 10,000 people die each year as a result of air pollution in London. Ironically, they refer to Asthma UK as “their friends”, although pigeons aren’t exactly the best pets to keep if you have pulmonary problems.

Still, just six backpack-wearing birds spread across ‘The Big Smoke’ can’t make you cough too much, right?

Tight timetable

Despite being the second city of Norway, Bergen is actually pretty small. But it seems like there are still loads of things to do there. The thing is, you might not have ever so much time. We don’t, so I was delighted to find a blog post entitled:

Explore Bergen In 1 Day – The Complete Guide

Thing is, I’m now just a bit unsure exactly how long 1 Bergen day is. Because the blogger in question managed to fit: 1 funicular ride to a scenic viewpoint, 1 historical UNESCO heritage site, a market, an aquarium, a castle, 4 museums and 2 hours of shopping into his one day in Bergen.

Blimey.

I can’t imagine that Parichay Mehta (for it is he) saw any of these places in great detail. Allowing for a reasonable amount of travel time between them, we’re looking at about half an hour per visit. Still, it has at least given us a bit of a heads up as to what’s on offer, given that we have… wait for it… a whole 1 AND A HALF days in Bergen.
Which of course means 45 minutes per attraction. And given that tourism is very much our secondary reason for visiting, that seems more than reasonable.

Oh, and we’re going to do one of these as well, because you don’t go to Bergen and not do The Sognefjord (apparently). Cannot wait.

(Obviously, when we go, I’ll do a more sensible ‘Bergen in a limited amount of time’ post.)

Options

Hate your job?

Obviously, being a research scientist [only ever so slightly back from being] right on the cutting edge of science, this isn’t a problem that I face on a daily basis. Because mundane stuff like malfunctioning incubators, staff on long-term sick leave and a soul-destroyingly meagre paycheck never make you feel like work is a struggle and that you would have been far better off as an astronaut or a train driver like you wanted to be when you were 5. Those things don’t apply to cutting edge research science. Oh no.

Still, it’s nice to know that there are options, should you, you know, ever feel that way.

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That advice (as you can probably see) supplied to us by @Michael1979, whose timeline makes it look like he’s never faced these sort of issues.

This is the best paper on feminist glaciology I have ever read

Seriously. What an analysis.
But why would such a paper be required. I mean, what’s the benefit here?

Merging feminist postcolonial science studies and feminist political ecology, the feminist glaciology framework generates robust analysis of gender, power, and epistemologies in dynamic social-ecological systems, thereby leading to more just and equitable science and human-ice interactions.

But ice is just ice, right?

Ha! No!

Many armchair glaciologists make this assumption, creating and perpetuating the oversimplification and misinterpretation of ice as frozen water. And yet, St. Germain, LeGuin, Khan, and many others – from Roni Horn (2009) to Pauline Couture (2005) – approach glaciers from distant and varied disciplinary and artistic spaces compared with glaciologists or even anthropologists studying human-glacier interactions:

…their voices should not simply be disregarded, overshadowed by Western science, or, worse, relegated from policy contexts where, in fact, the human experience with ice matters greatly.
These alternative representations from the visual and literary arts do more than simply offer cross-disciplinary perspectives on the cryosphere. Instead, they reveal entirely different approaches, interactions, relationships, perceptions, values, emotions, knowledges, and ways of knowing and interacting with dynamic environments.
They decenter the natural sciences, disrupt masculinity, deconstruct embedded power structures, depart from homogenous and masculinist narratives about glaciers, and empower and incorporate different ways of seeing, interacting, and representing glaciers – all key goals of feminist glaciology.

Indeed.

The full paper Glaciers, gender, and science: A feminist glaciology framework for global environmental change research by Carey et al. is here for you to read and enjoy.

So, we now know that ice isn’t just ice: that’s just “the way in which colonial, military, and geopolitical domination co-constitute glaciological knowledge”. Well done.

Meanwhile, NIH funding for bioscience research is lower than it was back in 2001.
Just saying.