Modeling the zombie apocalypse

I usually tell you a little about my topic before I give you my solemn promise that I didn't make any of it up.

This one is so weird that I'm going to put the disclaimer first:

I swear I'm not making any of this up.

A team of medical researchers from two universities in Ottawa have released a paper (published in the Journal of Infectious Disease Modelling Research Progress) containing a mathematical model of what would happen to a population during a zombie attack.

The team was comprised of Philip Munz, Ioan Hudea, Joe Imad, and Robert J. Smith?.  And no, I'm not being tentative, there, with that last name.  The question mark is part of Dr. Smith?'s name.  I wonder how it's pronounced, don't you?   Do you have to say it like a question?  At parties, do people go up to him and say, "Hello there, Dr... Smith?"

Myself, I wouldn't have thought it was legal to have a punctuation mark as part of your name.  But now that I find that apparently it is, I think I'll follow suit.  From now on, my name will be Gordon Bonnet!  That way, people will always seem excited to see me.

In any case, the aforementioned medical research team seems to take the whole zombie-study thing awfully seriously.  Here's the actual abstract of the paper:

Zombies are a popular figure in pop culture/entertainment and they are usually portrayed as being brought about through an outbreak or epidemic. Consequently, we model a zombie attack, using biological assumptions based on popular zombie movies. We introduce a basic model for zombie infection, determine equilibria and their stability, and illustrate the outcome with numerical solutions. We then refine the model to introduce a latent period of zombification, whereby humans are infected, but not infectious, before becoming undead. We then modify the model to include the effects of possible quarantine or a cure. Finally, we examine the impact of regular, impulsive reductions in the number of zombies and derive conditions under which eradication can occur. We show that only quick, aggressive attacks can stave off the doomsday scenario: the collapse of society as zombies overtake us all.

I also have to quote the first line of the paper itself, just because it's so memorable: "A zombie is a reanimated human corpse that feeds on living human flesh [1]."  The coolest thing about this is that they sourced this information.  The source, if you're curious, is The Zombie Survival Guide - Complete Protection from the Living Dead, by Max Brooks (2003, Three Rivers Press, pp. 2-23).

The article then goes on through some amazingly abstruse mathematics to show that a zombie outbreak would be "catastrophic" and could be "disastrous, unless extremely aggressive tactics are employed against the undead."

Have I mentioned that I am not making any of this up?

In the conclusion of the article, Munz, Hudea, Imad, and Smith? state:

In summary, a zombie outbreak is likely to lead to the collapse of civilisation, unless it is dealt with quickly. While aggressive quarantine may contain the epidemic, or a cure may lead to coexistence of humans and zombies, the most effective way to contain the rise of the undead is to hit hard and hit often.

What I find most amazing about all of this is that there was no attempt to tie this to any real, actual epidemic; the whole article was about zombies.  Doesn't that strike you as a little weird?  Now personally, I  love it when scientists take something whimsical and use it as a model for a real phenomenon; one of my all-time favorite studies was when a team of evolutionary biologists used "mutations" (i.e. typos and changes in wording) in chain letters as an analogy to random alterations in DNA, and used it to model how cladistic taxonomy works.  It was sheer brilliance.

This, though... well, I'm not sure I see the relevance.  I can't think of any disease that works anything like, um, zombification, so all of the mathematical twiddling about doesn't really have any apparent application.  Not, of course, that I object to scientists having a little fun once in a while -- but this made it into a peer-reviewed journal, and presumably was the result of a grant from a funding agency of some sort.  Dr. Neil Ferguson, who is one of the UK's top governmental medical advisers, seemed a little uncomfortable when asked about the study.  "My understanding of zombie biology is that if you manage to decapitate a zombie, then it's dead forever," he said, in an interview, and went on to state that other than that characteristic, "zombification" didn't really seem to parallel any known disease particularly well.  "[No infectious illness known] actually causes large-scale death or disease, but certainly there are some fungal infections which are difficult to eradicate."

Smith?, however, was undaunted, and told a BBC reporter, "When you try to model an unfamiliar disease, you try to find out what's happening, try to approximate it.  You then refine it, go back and try again."  Even, apparently, when said unfamiliar disease doesn't, technically, exist.

So, there you have it, then.  A mathematical model for the zombie apocalypse.

Oh, and by the way, if you still don't believe me, here's a link to a BBC article about the study.  In the lower right hand part of the page there's a link that says "Zombies Study (University of Ottawa)" that will allow you to download a free pdf of the entire paper.

Reading all of this stuff leaves me feeling kind of dazed, incapable of doing anything but stumbling around the house with a blank expression, making moaning noises.  Of course, that may be because I'm still waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.  No need to show up at my door with axes.  Honestly.

Aliens from the planet Kitsch

We arrived back home Saturday evening from visiting my cousins in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and my wife's uncle and aunt in Santa Fe.  Our day of travel, from Albuquerque to Atlanta to Detroit to home, was uneventful despite the presence of Hurricane Irene spinning off the Atlantic coast, but I awoke to wind and rain Sunday morning, and lost power at 10 AM, and it was out for most of the rest of the day.

Welcome home.

In any case, New Mexico was beautiful, and our visits were great fun, and as an added bonus we took a detour on our way from Las Cruces to Santa Fe to visit...

Roswell.

Admit it, you knew I would.  Our mood was set by passing through the White Sands Missile Range on the way up, and seeing the "No Trespassing!  Military Facility" signs, with their cheerful deadly-force-authorized small print, all along the highway.  My wife also noticed that every entrance was guarded not only by soldiers, but by a white SUV with tinted windows, occupied by guys in dark suits.

It's the guys in dark suits that always worry me. 

So, we arrived in Roswell in the appropriate frame of mind.  Our first stop was the "Alien Zone," an amazingly kitschy shop/museum (of sorts) with all manner of alien-themed merchandise.  I bought two t-shirts, and a poster for my classroom.  The poster shows a twisty-faced alien framed by the words "ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO" and is sure to further cement my students' opinion that I've lost my marbles.  Then we visited "Area 51," in the back of the shop, which had a multitude of interactive photo opportunities, one of which I have included below.

And you thought that the Law of Gravity was strictly enforced.

After our visit to the Alien Zone, we went over to the International UFO Museum, which took itself much more seriously.  It had a really nice display of the Roswell Incident, with newspaper clippings, photographs, and transcripts of interviews with the major players.  It then went on to other UFO-related incidents (there was a whole panel about the Betty and Barney Hill "abduction").  The crop circle display lost it a few credibility points, in my eyes, but on the whole, it was fairly well done.

I did think it was funny, however, that even in the International UFO Museum, they seemed uneasy about the complete lack of hard evidence.  On more than one panel were phrases like, "... a visitor from another planet?  Or a hoax?  You decide."  This sort of thing always makes me mutter under my breath, "Okay, I will."  You'd think that here, of all places, they'd come right out and say, "Yup, it was an alien spacecraft."  The fact that even they hemmed and hawed about the whole thing was a little disappointing.  I felt like saying, "C'mon, guys, take a stand, for cryin' in the sink."

But on the whole, it was a fun experience, although we didn't see a UFO or get abducted or anything.  Which, frankly, was a little disappointing.  There we were, in the desert, giving the aliens and the Men In Black every chance to prove me wrong, and they just let us zoom on by. 

It's funny, isn't it, how skeptics and scientists never get abducted?  If I were an alien, I'd want to have a chat with the smartest brains on the planet.  The first people I'd abduct would be Michio Kaku and Neil de Grasse Tyson, who are not only brilliant but are as funny as hell, and we'd sit around and each have a nice glass of single malt Arcturian Firewhiskey and talk about the universe.  Evidently, however, the aliens don't think that way.  I saw a t-shirt to that effect in the "Alien Zone:"  "If aliens are so smart, why do they always abduct the dumbest people on the planet?"

Anyhow, we had a good time in Roswell, and I recommend a visit if you're ever in the US Southwest.  If you go, make sure to stop by the Alien Zone and the International UFO Museum.  They're worth checking out - if for no other reason, for the humor value.  And do watch out for those Men In Black.  They looked way scarier than the aliens, who were mostly unarmed and in any case seemed to be made of rubber.

Taking a week off...

My Dear Skeptophiliacs,

This post is to let you know that Skeptophilia will be going on a brief hiatus for me to have a breather from writing every day, and also to do some research for upcoming posts.  Skeptophilia will return, refreshed and ready to charge back into doing battle with the ranks of the woo-woo, on Sunday, August 28, 2011.

Where will I be during my week off, you might ask?  My destination is a heavily-guarded secret, but let me just give you this brief hint: my first post upon my return will probably have something to do with alien corpses and UFO crash sites.

I would encourage you until then to continue to survey the news with a critical eye, and not to forget to apply a thick layer of skepticism over everything you read or hear.  "Does this make sense?" is often an excellent question to start with.  In the case of bloggers, editorial writers, and talk-radio hosts, the next question is, "What viewpoint are they trying to sell me, and why?"  Failing that, you can always fall back on the tried-and-true, "Is this person crazy?  Or just stupid?"

And yes, I am aware of the irony of a blogger telling you to be suspicious of blogs.  You shouldn't take what anyone says without question, and that includes me.

In any case, if during this week you find yourself developing a rosy outlook, and thinking that your fellow human beings really are pretty smart, rational, and clear-headed, I encourage you to peruse the Skeptophilia archives (posted chronologically on the lower right-hand side of this page; you may have to scroll down a bit).  You have over 200 posts to choose from.  And trust me, once you're done, you'll find you'll be back to feeling like a significant percentage of the human race is composed of raving whackmobiles.

So, until the 28th, I will bid you a fond adieu.  And just remember the skeptic's motto:  Don't believe everything you think.

cheers,

Gordon

Bizarre news in brief

This is shaping up to be an interesting week here at Worldwide Wacko Watch.

First, we have reports of a "dragonfly drone" near Fort Benning, Georgia.

An unidentified man saw, and drew a picture of, a small, self-propelled aerial craft buzzing around his house.  Despite the fact that the man couldn't produce the actual object itself and stated that it never landed, he was able to replicate details in his drawing that border on the astonishing (including the fact that it had an embossed Greek letter epsilon on its top).  (You can read the report, and see the drawing, here.)

This is only the latest of a series of "dragonfly drone" reports, coming from California, Oregon, Arizona, Louisiana, Alabama, Arkansas, and Ohio.  The Alabama report, back in 2007, came from a guy who went by the fake name "Ted Connors" so as to preserve his anonymity.  Connors claimed to be a subcontractor for the Department of Homeland Security, and was working near Maxwell AFB when he was buzzed by a drone.

Then, he "telepathically downloaded" the memory of the drone, and found out that its origin was the planet Oltissis, in a parallel dimension.  He found a library book in Montgomery which mentioned Oltissis, and brought it to work to read, but agents from the DHS showed up one night and confiscated the book.  *cue suspenseful music*  You have to wonder if they gave him money to pay the inevitable library fine.

All I can say is, if we have people working for the government who believe that they've telepathically downloaded information from a drone originating on a planet in a parallel dimension, it's no wonder we're in trouble as a nation.  Next thing you know, we'll have a young-earth-creationist climate change denier who wants to bring home vigilante justice on the Federal Reserve Chairman running for president.


Speaking of Texas, next we have a story from Galveston, where a 19-year-old man who claimed to be a "five hundred year old deathless vampire" broke into a woman's apartment and bit her on the neck because he "needed to feed."

Police took a while to subdue Lyle Monroe Bensley, who at the time of his apprehension was clad only in a pair of boxers and kept making "hissing sounds."  He claimed that he "didn't want to feed on humans," but he had no choice.

He's being kept restrained in the Galveston County Jail, until police officials can find a wooden stake and a large mallet.


Then, we have a story from Hebron, Kentucky, where a team sponsored by the fundamentalist group "Answers in Genesis" is attempting to build Noah's ark to the exact specifications listed in the bible.

Mike Zovath, the project manager, states, "There's a lot of doubt: 'Could Noah have built a boat this big, could he have put all the animals on the boat?'  Those are questions people all over the country ask."

Yup, I know I've asked that same question myself.  And then answered it, "No."  But that isn't stopping Zovath and his crew, who are determined to show that such a craft could have housed "thousands of animals with no problem."

For reference, the current estimate of the number of animal species on Earth is somewhere around 12 million.  And that isn't even counting the plants, which also presumably would have benefited from protection from coverage by thousands of feet of salt water.


And now that we're discussing fiction, we will end with a helpful do-it-yourself article (here) called "How To Cleanse Your Own Aura."  I have to admit if you could handle such things on your own it would be more convenient than bringing your aura to the drycleaners.  The article includes such essential tips as figuring out when your aura is dirty:

How much time do you spend in bad places?  Work space, shopping centers, bus?  How many times a day do you touch people around you?  How often do you have sex with random people?  If you’re alive, then I bet you collect negative energies.  Don’t worry, we all do :-)

I kind of question his assumption that "we all" have sex with random people.  But anyway, let's take it for granted that we all have stressful factors in our lives and therefore "collect negative energies."  The writer said that he sometimes collects so many negative energies that his aura turns dark and he can "barely see his third eye."  If you can imagine.

In any case, if you too find yourself having a hard time locating your third eye because your aura's got schmutz on it, here's what you do:

Light a candle in a quiet room, and imagine yourself illuminated by a "spiritual light."  Then when your aura lightens up, grab the "negative energies" and fling them into the flame, making sure to exhale while you do it so you don't "inhale the negative energies back into your body."  There!  All better!  Next time, try to take better care of your aura, and you won't have to go through all that trouble again.

For one thing, try having less sex with random people.

It takes balls

So now three Japanese diners have been hospitalized, and one of them is still in critical condition with respiratory failure, from eating fugu.

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular culinary item, "fugu" is grilled Japanese blowfish.  The three diners in question deliberately consumed one of the most dangerous parts, the blowfish's testicles.

I wish I were making this up.  Apparently fugu is considered a delicacy, a word that should immediately raise your suspicion level.  In my opinion, the word "delicacy" is used only to describe food that, under normal circumstances, would never be consumed by anyone who was not participating in a fraternity initiation.  Other foods I've heard described as delicacies are hakarl (Icelandic fermented shark meat, which is described as having "a very strong ammonia-like taste"), durian (a southeast Asian fruit whose smell is so evil that it is now illegal in many countries to cut one open in hotels or on public transportation), and lutefisk (a Norwegian fish product produced by soaking the fish in lye; it is served with a mustard sauce that informed sources tell me "smells exactly like vomit").

Of course, the preceding three examples only put you in danger of tossing your cookies, or perhaps having your friends and family seriously question your sanity.  Fugu adds the frisson of possibly killing you.  It is the Russian roulette of delicacies.

Me, I don't really see the appeal.  Maybe fugu tastes really great, I don't know.  The point is, so does dark chocolate, and you're not risking paralysis, coma, and death from eating it.  Still, I'm sure that people will continue to eat fugu, and people will continue to die -- last year, 44 people were hospitalized with blowfish poisoning, and three of them died.

In Japan, you have to have a special license to prepare fugu.  Apparently, if you prepare it correctly, it greatly decreases the likelihood that you'll die.  The poison, tetrodotoxin, is one hundred times more poisonous than potassium cyanide.  It is a sodium channel blocker, and as a result paralyzes the muscles, including the heart and diaphragm -- all the while leaving you conscious and aware of the fact that you're dying.  It is only found in particular tissues in the fish, and all of those tissues have to be scrupulously removed in order for the fugu to be safe to eat.  You can imagine, with something that toxic, it doesn't take much of a mistake to kill you -- it's difficult to be sure you've got every last tiny scrap of the poisonous tissue.  Evidently the cook who served the dish to the trio last week didn't have a "fugu license," and had missed some of the toxic parts.  As a result, the three began to lose feeling in their extremities, had trouble breathing, and finally lost consciousness.

My question is, why would you take a chance like that?  I like risk as well as the next guy, but I'm perfectly happy exercising that part of my personality by scuba diving and riding rollercoasters.  I'm not so much interested in eating the Toxic Testicles of Death.  Given the choice, I'll stick with dark chocolate.

The meaning of "Two dignified spinsters sitting in silence"

In yesterday's post, I made a case for how silly the practice of astrology was.  One of my readers posted a comment, the gist of which was, "You haven't even begun to plumb the depths of the silliness," and attached this link, "The Degrees and Meanings of the Sabian Symbols."

For those of you who would prefer not to risk valuable brain cells even opening this link, allow me to explain that the Sabian Symbols are mystical images, one for each of the 360 degrees of the zodiac.  Another site, simply called "Sabian Symbols," (here) describes them as follows:

Renowned worldwide as both an uncanny divination system and an insightful tool for astrologers, the Sabian Symbols were channeled in San Diego in 1925 by Marc Edmund Jones, a well reknowned [sic] and respected astrologer, and Elsie Wheeler, a spiritualist medium.  They consist of 360 word images corresponding to the 360 degrees of the zodiac (each zodiac sign comprising of 30 degrees)...  The Sabian Symbols are extraordinary for insight, revelation and guidance.  Miracles, big and small, happen in your life when you tap into their field...  (it is) an "ancient mind matrix."

Well.  Alrighty, then.  Let's just take a look, shall we?  Here are a few selected Sabian Symbols from various degrees of the zodiac.  Let me know of any insight, revelation, or guidance you got from them, okay?

Aries, 7-8 degrees:  A large woman's hat with streamers blown by the east wind.
Taurus, 15-16 degrees:  An old teacher fails to interest his pupils in traditional knowledge.
Leo, 1-2 degrees:  An epidemic of mumps.
Virgo, 15-16 degrees:  In the zoo, children are brought face-to-face with an orangutan.
Sagittarius, 20-21 degrees:  A child and a dog wearing borrowed eyeglasses.
Capricorn, 16-17 degrees:  A repressed woman finds psychological release in nudism.
Aquarius, 22-23 degrees:  A big bear sitting down and waving all of its paws.

Okay, so that gives you an idea.  And no, I didn't make any of these up.  All I can say is: whatever drugs this guy was on when he came up with these, can I have some?

Of course, the people who believe in this stuff don't think that it was drugs.  They think that Marc Edmund Jones was really channeling a mystical presence.  Once again, quoting from "Sabian Symbols:"

The Sabian Symbol story is embedded in the ancient cultures of the Middle East.  Marc Edmund Jones felt that there was an "unseen agency" - an external, esoteric mind-set at work in the birthing of the Sabian Symbols.  Connection was made through a 'Brother', a member of the ancient Mesopotamian brotherhood, the Sabian Brotherhood.  He believed that they were the 'voices' that were spiritually behind Elsie Wheeler, delivering the messages that became the Symbols...  As we move out of the Piscean age and into the Aquarian age, we are transmuting in many ways, with the vibration of our spiritual and intellectual minds moving into higher gears as we evolve.  In such hectic times, we hunger for meaning and guidance, but often don't have the time or the patience to pause and reflect deeply on our situation.  The Sabian Oracle opens the doorway between our inner feelings and intentions and our conscious mind.  They do this by helping to put what is within us into words.  Being provided with possibilities enables us to act positively and confidently, and think rationally.

My general response to all of that is that if you were thinking rationally you wouldn't be relying on astrology in the first place.  And, of course, the usual problem with symbolic fortunetelling occurs here, just as it does with the Tarot, the I Ching, runes, and so on; the symbols are so weird and open to interpretation that you can make just about anything out of them that you want.  Suppose that for some reason, the "oracle" told me that my symbol for today was Libra, 29-30 degrees ("Three mounds of knowledge on a philosopher's head.")  My first response would be that I didn't know that knowledge came in mounds.  But after that, what does it mean?  Is it saying that I'm smart?  Or that I'm not smart enough and should go study?  Or that today would be good for contemplation?  Or that I should be looking for guidance from three different sources?  Or that I could find answers in books by philosophers?

This is why the "Sabian Symbols" site offers "professional Sabian astrology consultations" -- because slobs like me just aren't qualified to interpret what "A butterfly with a third wing on its left side" (Libra, 23-24 degrees) means.

The take-home lesson here, I suppose, is that there is no realm of woo-woo so goofy that someone can't elaborate on it in such a fashion as to make it way goofier.  Wondering whether there might be anything else I could learn from all the time I spent reading this stuff, I clicked on the link that said "Clear your mind and click on this picture of a galaxy" to get wisdom from the oracle.  I got Scorpio, 16-17 degrees, which is "A woman, fecundated with her own spirit, is the father of her own child."  Which, I think, was a symbolic way for the oracle to tell me to go fuck myself.

Oracles can be so hostile, sometimes.

It's written in the stars

TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: Scorpio (October 23-November 21)

Your foundations are more important than you realize.  When you feel secure, nothing will bother you. If you are upset, everything could.  You are inspired by those close to you.  Understanding comes easily.  Tonight: Happiest at home.


Well, that certainly clears up my future.  Let's see if we can summarize the wisdom we have accrued from this entry:

1) If I'm secure, then I'm pretty secure.
2) If I'm not secure, then I'm not feeling very secure.
3) I have reasons for liking the people I'm close to.
4) I'm a pretty smart guy.
5) I better stay home tonight; if I don't, then wow, anything could happen.

Of course, this only applies to me because I'm a Scorpio.  If I was a different astrological sign, my horoscope would have been different, and (I'm sure) just as revealing.

Now, all astrology is based upon the positions of the moon and planets relative to twelve of the eighty-eight constellations.  The constellations, which were devised by extremely nearsighted ancient Greeks, are arrangements of stars that are supposed to look like something familiar.  So we have, for example, the Scorpion, the Bull, the Ram, and the Virgin (the last-mentioned has always made me wonder, how can they tell?).  I don't know how many of you are amateur star-gazers, but it occurs to me that the patterns of stars in the constellations don't really resemble what they're supposed to be all that much.  Libra, for example, is the Balance (whether it's an old-fashioned double-pan balance, a triple-beam balance, or a digital scale that reads to thousandths of a gram is unclear).  Now, in point of fact, Libra is made of four stars arranged in a lopsided quadrilateral.  If four stars in a lopsided quadrilateral could be the Balance, they could be damn near anything.  It could equally well be the constellation of the Computer Monitor, the Street Sign, or the Wombat.  But no, it's the Balance, and this is why supposedly Libras like to have things all nice and neat and organized, and hate it when a picture is hung crooked.

Now, why anyone thinks that the positions of the planets relative to an arbitrary arrangement of stars could have anything to do with your personality, future plans, or relationships, is an open question.  However, a recent Washington Post survey indicates that 32% of Americans do believe in astrology, and consider it "very scientific."  In my opinion, astrology is only slightly more scientific than the theory that thunder is caused by god and the angels having a bowling tournament.

Maybe I'm odd (okay, it's very likely that I'm odd), but whenever I run up against something like astrology, my first demand is "show me the mechanism."  If you believe that Jupiter's apparent position relative to a group of stars of varying distances from the earth (ranging from tens to hundreds of light-years), whose configuration is vaguely reminiscent of a guy carrying a water jug (Aquarius), has some effect on your day-to-day life, then show me how it works.  And vague, hand-waving "explanations" about "forces" and "energies" won't cut it. If you believe astrology is "very scientific," then explain the science.

Some astrologers evidently have made lame attempts to do just that, usually making appeal to the gravitational pull of the planets, stars, and so on.  But as Carl Sagan points out, the obstetrician was exerting a greater gravitational pull on you when you were born than Jupiter was, and we don't go around blathering about being born under the sign of Dr. Felkenberger.  ("Yes, everyone knows we Felkenbergers are highly intelligent, sensitive people, who like Thai food and listen to opera.")  Others claim some sort of Tao-of-Physics kind of approach, that the constellations influence your Quantum State at Birth and Exert Mystical Action at a Distance.

Yeah.  Okay.  That explains everything.  I bet my Quantum State at Birth was: I was a baby.  I probably cried a lot.  And I doubt that the fact that the Moon was in Capricorn at the time had a damn thing to do with it.

Yet despite this appalling lack of a plausible mechanism, many folks believe fervently in astrology.  And some people make lots of money off of it.  (It might be nonsense, but it can be highly lucrative nonsense.)  The same also applies to a lot of other kinds of baloney,  however.  People also believe in numerology.  And homeopathy.  And clairvoyance.  And auras.  And crystal energies.  (My dad was an amateur rockhound, and so I have a ton of his cool rocks and minerals around the house.  One time, a woman was visiting us, and picked up an amethyst crystal my dad had found in Arizona, and said, "Oooh, this one has amazingly strong energies!  I can feel its vibrations."  It was an effort not to guffaw right in her face.)

So anyway, if anyone can explain to me why astrology isn't a bunch of malarkey, I'd love to hear your explanation.  Until then, I'm of the opinion that it's certifiable 100% USDA Grade-A Bullshit.   And I probably will go out tonight, just to spite the stars.