News from Loch Ness

Fans of the claim that a plesiosaur left over from the Cretaceous Period lives in Scotland's Loch Ness just got a shot in the arm from recent sonar images.

Tour boat skipper Marcus Atkinson was out in Loch Ness' Urquhart Bay when he saw a sensor blip show up on his sonar fish finder.  The object, which was five feet wide and about thirty feet long, was down at a depth of about 75 feet, and seemed to be following the boat.  Here's the image in question:

"I was dropping customers at Urquhart Castle and then got my boat out of the way of the other tour companies," Atkinson told reporters.  "I moved out into the water and looked at the sonar and saw this image had appeared.  The device takes a reading of the depth and what is below the boat every quarter of a second and gradually builds up a picture, so it covered a time of about five minutes.  The object got bigger and bigger and I thought 'bloody hell' and took a picture with my mobile phone.  There is nothing that big in the Loch. I was in shock as it looked like a big serpent, it’s amazing. You can’t fake a sonar image.  I have never seen anything returned like this on the fish finder.  It is a bizarre shape to me. I have shown it to other experienced skippers and none of us know what it was.  I have seen a lot of pictures in 21 years of being here but this is the clearest image yet. Undoubtedly, there is something in the loch."

The image was the winner of the Best Nessie Sighting of the Year Award.

Okay, now what's a skeptic to think about this?

First, I've always put Nessie down a bit on the plausibility list -- below, for example, Sasquatch -- because there's a good scientific argument against its existence, to wit: the claim that a plesiosaur survived in Scotland for the last 65 million years ignores the fact that between then and now, Scotland has more than once been underneath a great big glacier.  The last one receded only 10,000 years ago, and is thought to be the origin of the lake itself.  If you think that an enormous aquatic dinosaur made it through the various Ice Ages, you have to be able to explain how it either (1) somehow escaped being turned into a Plesiosaur Popsicle despite being buried under hundreds of feet of ice, or (2) got into Loch Ness after the ice receded, at a time when the sea level was a great deal lower than it is now and it was an even longer trip over land from the nearest large body of water.  Additionally, Loch Ness is what is called an oligotrophic lake -- it is very low in dissolved nutrients, and therefore is largely devoid of life.  There are simply not enough fish in Loch Ness to support a breeding population of thirty-foot-long aquatic dinosaurs.  None of these objections is usually addressed by Nessie aficionados.

But presupposing that there is some explanation for all of this that I'm missing, what did Marcus Atkinson see on his fish finder?  I have to admit that if I'd been in his shoes, "bloody hell" would probably have been only the first, and mildest, exclamation I would have said, and I would have gotten my boat out of the water so fast that it probably would still be embedded in the nearest beach.  Be that as it may, the image does deserve an explanation.

The unfortunate thing, of course, is that Atkinson was alone on his boat when it happened.  I'm trying to be open-minded here and refrain from commenting on (1) the fact that this is pretty convenient, given the controversial nature of his claim, not to mention (2) the fact that the fame he's now getting for having taken this image are now significantly higher than he could have expected to get as a humble tour boat operator, and (3) the fact that it's the beginning of tourist season in the Scottish Highlands, and (4) the fact that there's a new tourist attraction opening this year called "Cruise Loch Ness," designed as monster-hunting trips, run by... none other than Marcus Atkinson.

Okay, so maybe I didn't try all that hard to refrain from commenting upon those things.

And, of course, there's the problem that there's another plausible explanation of the image.  Dr. Simon Boxall, of the National Oceanographic Centre at Southampton, told reporters that it is incorrect to think of sonar images as analogous to a standard photograph:  "The picture is built up slowly as the boat moves," Boxall explained.  "So it’s not a snapshot, and thus the image is not an image of a single object unless it is very still."

So is Atkinson's image a fake?  No, Boxall says, but it also isn't a plesiosaur.

"The image shows a bloom of algae and zooplankton that would exist on what would be a thermocline.  Zooplankton live off this algae and reflect sound signals from echo sounders and fish finders very well.  They will appear as a linear 'blob' on the screen, just like this.  This is a monster made of millions of tiny animals and plants and represents the bulk of life in the Loch."

So sorry, Nessie fans, but it looks like if this is the Best Nessie Sighting of the Year, it's pretty lame.

Now, understand that if it did turn out that there was a plesiosaur in Scotland, I would be thrilled.  I was one of those kids who loved prehistoric animals, and I've never really gotten over it.  But I just think that the evidence, sadly, is mostly in the "nope" column.  Too bad, because even if you're a microbiologist, you have to admit that it is a proven scientific fact that dinosaurs are cooler than zooplankton.

Wonder of wonders

Nine-year-old Preston Stevens of Boston claims he's alive because of a miracle.  (Source)

Last Tuesday afternoon, Stevens and his mother, Sharon Jackson, heard some popping noises, and Preston felt a "push."  He was narrowly missed by a bullet that had come right through the wall - in fact, it left a smoking hole in the Boston Celtics jersey he was wearing.  Preston was quoted as saying that "it was like God pushed me."

Well, first and foremost I want to express my happiness that Preston is safe and sound, and nothing I'm about to say should be construed as diminishing that.  The fundamental thing here is that a child could have been injured or killed, and any amount of philosophical meandering should take back seat to that consideration.

That said, however, the whole thing does bring up a troubling question; how could you tell the difference between a miracle and simple good luck?

I have had times when I've had near misses from disaster -- like the time that my car hit a patch of black ice, went into a spin, and I slid right off the road -- onto a twenty-by-twenty patch of flat gravel that is the only place along that road that I could have landed without flipping my car, slamming into a tree, or landing in a creek.  After a moment to restart my heart, I slowly pulled back out onto the road, and drove the rest of the way to work without incident, and without so much as a scratch or dent on my car.

But was it a miracle?  Even if I believed in a deity, I think I'd be distinctly uneasy calling it that, because that implies that something different happened in that circumstance (there was direct intervention by god) than if it had just been dumb luck.  Does the fact that I saw no giant translucent hand shoving me in the direction of the gravel patch mean that I was simply fortunate?  (I have to admit that if god does exist, he missed a good opportunity to get rid of me that day -- and given how much time I've spent disbelieving in his existence, I couldn't have argued with his motives.)

I think the whole thing hinges on an unknowable; something is classifiable as a miracle only if it would have happened otherwise without direct intervention by a higher power.  And how could we possibly know that?  C. S. Lewis makes as strong a case for the occurrence of the miraculous as any I've ever read (in his book, appropriately titled Miracles).   He claims that the "naturalist" position is self-contradictory:

What the Naturalist believes is the ultimate Fact, the thing you can't go behind, is a vast process in space and time which is going on of its own accord. Inside that total system every particular event (such as your sitting reading this book) happens because some other event has happened. All things and events are so completely interlocked that no one of them can claim can claim the slightest independence from 'the whole show.'

He goes on to state that since a "naturalist" claims that we are all created, and driven, by random motions of molecules and so on, that there's no reason to believe that the conclusions reached by our brains are correct; how, he argues, could a brain made of randomly-moving particles ever be more than a generator of random statements, which may or may not be true?  If there is no external truth (i.e. god), we have no touchstone by which to determine the truth of naturalism itself, and the whole thing swallows its own tail.

I don't intend to analyze Lewis' whole argument -- perhaps that is the topic for another post -- but I think part of what Lewis misses is that supernaturalism has its own fundamental self-contradiction, which is in its claim that there are events that are "super-natural" -- that would not have happened, or would have happened differently, without a divine hand driving the action.  Lewis himself has Aslan say (in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader), "My child, no one is ever told what might have been."  So the declaration of an event as being a miracle presupposes a knowledge of what would have happened without the divine intervention occurring -- something that even Lewis says is impossible!

Of course, that's not the only problem with the assumption of the miraculous.  It also brings up the far more troubling question of why some people deserve miracles and others don't -- if god intervened to save Preston Stevens' life (I'm assuming that we're accepting that a miracle was unlikely in the case of my near-miss automobile accident), why doesn't he intervene to save the lives of the thousands of other children who die tragically every day?  To me, stating that it was "god's plan" that Preston survived leads you into the distinctly awkward suggestion that it was also god's plan that other children (and other adults) die, sometimes in agony, many because of senseless violence.  I suppose that if you believe in an afterlife you could quibble that the victims of such tragedies got their rewards after death -- but considering that the majority of the world (and therefore the majority of these unfortunate individuals) are not Christian, this isn't a very satisfying answer, either.

Of course, since I don't believe in a deity, my answer is that bad stuff happens, people die, sometimes people escape unscathed in amazing ways, and that's just the way of things.  But I have to admit to some curiosity about how the religious deal with this issue, because it seems to me on the one hand presumptuous ("we know the intentions of god"), or on the other hand to open up more questions than it answers.

In any case, I'll end by reiterating that I'm glad that Preston Stevens was unhurt, be it a miracle or not.  And I have to note, in the interest of honesty, that despite the fact that his mother fully supports Preston's claims that his survival was a miracle, she did move his bed to the other side of the room.

You're my type

A few days ago I posted an article about a claim that Rh negative individuals are descended from aliens, or possibly Jesus, and this allows them to have a variety of superpowers.  The outcome of writing this is that my blog has been bombarded by a slew of advertisements revolving around blood types (not to mention aliens and Jesus),and this included one that claimed that before dating, you should always check your potential romantic interest's blood type.

Intrigued, I clicked the link, and after about a half-hour's rooting around online (during which thousands of innocent cells in my prefrontal cortex were subjected to unmentionable agony) I found this site, which seems to have the most detail about the whole thing.  It turns out that for some years now, woo-woos in Japan have claimed that your blood type (just the A/B/O group, not the Rh group; almost no one in Japan is Rh negative) influences your personality.  And of course, there's no way that Americans are going to read about any damnfool unscientific idea without a significant number of them going, "Wow, I never thought of that!"  Especially if the idea originated in Japan, which always seems to add a nice cachet of credibility.  So this has led to a whole new branch of personality-analysis pseudoscience, as if astrology wasn't enough.

According to Natalie Josef, the writer on the above website, not only does your blood type tell you your personality and who you should try to hook up with, it also predicts what career you should pursue:

Type O
You are the social butterflies. Often popular and self-confident, you are very creative and always seem to be the center of attention. You make a good impression on people and you’re often quite attractive. Organized and determined, your stubbornness will help you reach your goals. You make good leaders. Lovewise, O is most compatible with O and AB. Common career choices: banker, politician, gambler, minister, investment broker, and pro athlete.
Type A
Type As may seem calm on the outside, but inside, you’re filled with anxiety and worry. You’re perfectionists and often shy and sensitive. Usually introverted, you’re stable and thoughtful. You make good listeners and are sensitive to color and your surroundings. You like to be fashionable and are up on the latest trends, but never flashy or gaudy. You like romantic settings and often shun reality for fantasy worlds. A is most compatible with A and AB in the love department. Common career choices: accountant, librarian, economist, writer, computer programmer, and gossip columnist.
Type B
You can be very goal-oriented and often complete the ambitious tasks set before you. Outgoing and very charming, you’re good at reading people and providing support. Though critical of appearance (but not your own), you aren’t picky and are unlikely to dwell over the little things. Type Bs are impulsive individualists who often create their own path in life. You are very strong and optimistic. B is most compatible with B and AB lovers. Common career choices: cook, hairdresser, military leader, talk show host, and journalist.
Type AB
Not surprisingly, ABs can be quite dualistic, possessing both A and B traits. You may be shy and outgoing, and hesitant and confident. You often stand out from others, don’t like labels, and are nice and easy going. You are logical and determined to do things correctly. Usually trustworthy, you like to help others. You often speak in a serious manner. Your patience, concentration, and intelligence are admirable. AB can find a soul mate with any other blood type. Common career choices: bartender, lawyer, teacher, sales representative, and social worker.

Well, I'm a type A, and I have to admit that I am a bit of a border collie, personality-wise; but as far as being "fashionable," all I can say is that usually I go to work looking like I've been put through a dryer without "Cling-Free."  I probably own an iron, but I have no idea where it is, and my idea of color matching usually revolves around the concept of "everything goes well with khaki."  And in the career department, "writer" is an obvious hit, but the other ones ("Gossip columnist?" "Accountant?" What the hell?) are, shall we say, not very accurate.

What strikes me about all of this is the usual dart-thrower's bias phenomenon; we tend to notice the hits and ignore the misses.  But really, come on.  Are you really claiming that there are only four basic personality types?  Even the astrologers divide all of humanity twelve ways; the best you can do is four?

Then, after reading the article, I made the mistake of scrolling down to the comments.  This is, as I have mentioned before, usually a mistake.  My favorite one was the second comment, which revolved around the fact that the article had made a point that in Japan, believers in the whole blood-type-is-destiny don't like ABs very much.  This reader was upset by that:

Kudos on your article Natalie. I love learning something new all the time. I'm an AB+ as well, plus Asian astrology sign of Fire Horse. Not only did they abort as many unborn fire horses back in 1966 as they were able, (fire was considered an undesirable element with horse sign) but now I find out they also wouldn't want me due to my blood type! However, I have to say I love Asian food!

Okay.  Sure.  "Fire horses."  "Fire horse" + AB = "really bad."  But at least I like shrimp fried rice!  Yay!

I have to admit to deep mystification as to why an obviously absurd idea could possibly convince anyone, and I'm forced to the conclusion that the main problem is that a large fraction of humanity has no real understanding of the principles of scientific induction.  We are so immersed in a world of advertising claims, political sound-bites, and media glitz that "well, that sounds right!" has become the gold standard for belief.  Remarkably few people, upon reading a claim, seem even to take the next step, which is to ask the question, "how do I know that claim is true?", much less go on to asking, "if it is true, how could that possibly work?"  All in all, it makes me realize that as a science teacher, I have my work cut out for me.

A book to howl about

If you're looking to add to your collection of books about weird creatures that probably don't exist, now is the time to preorder Linda Godfrey's latest, Real Wolfmen: True Encounters in Modern America.  (Here's the link to her book's page on Amazon.)

I have to admit that I've always been fascinated by werewolves.  For the record, my fascination predates, and in fact has nothing to do with, a certain Movie That Shall Not Be Named, in which being a werewolf seemed mostly an excuse to run around with no shirt on.  Note that I have nothing against being shirtless, but I do find it amusing that said Unnamed Movie is set in the Pacific Northwest.  Now, I lived in the Pacific Northwest for ten years, and I can say from personal experience that for about nine months of the year, running around without a shirt in Washington State is a good way to develop hypothermia, if not a bad case of Dreaded Skin Mildew.  Maybe why that's why this particular character always seemed to look so sullen.  I don't know.

But I digress.

The werewolf myth goes back a long way, and a great many cultures have a tradition of people who are able to change into animal form -- some deliberately, some involuntarily (or under certain conditions, or at certain times).  The Skinwalker tradition of the Navajo is one of the scariest; not only can the werewolf rip you to shreds, he can take over your body simply by locking eyes on you.  Some traditions from the Native Americans of the Northeast include the Wendigo, a shapeshifting demon that some anthropologists believe might have been a myth borrowed from contact with 11th century Vikings -- because the werewolf legends of Scandinavia are amongst the most elaborate in the world.  You have your berserkers, who are warriors who in battle-rage transform into bears; but King Harald I Fairhair was supposed to have a special army of úlfhednar, men who wore wolf-pelts and who could at will transform into wolves.  Animal transformation was not limited to men, however.  In Finland, the ihmissusi were all female, and in fact were usually thought to be elderly -- nasty-tempered old ladies with poisonous claws who would turn into wolves and kill your cattle if you pissed them off.

The connection with the full moon seems to have been popularized by the 13th century lawyer and writer Gervase of Tilbury in his book Liber de Mirabilibus Mundi (Book of Wonders of the World), but he certainly picked it up from English folk legend.  So the whole idea that when the moon is full, you should Keep To The Road And Stay Off The Moors has been around for a while.

Myself, I've always wondered why you're limited to wolves and bears and so on.  Could you be a were-mouse?  Or a were-possum?  Or a were-slug?  I mean, it might be kind of anticlimactic to go through all that trouble and then turn into something unimpressive, but you have to wonder.  (Actually, I wrote a short story that riffed on this idea -- it's the title story in my collection Once Bitten, which is available for Kindle here.  And if I can indulge in a moment of immodesty, this bunch of short stories rocks and you should all buy it right now.)

So, anyway, Godfrey's new book promises to be interesting, and the press release announcing its publication certainly howls its praises:

What’s hiding in the woods? Here is the definitive account of today’s nationwide sightings of upright, canine creatures – which resemble traditional werewolves – and a thorough exploration of the nature and possible origins of the mysterious beast.

The U.S. has been invaded – if many dozens of eyewitnesses are to be believed – by upright, canine creatures that look like traditional werewolves and act as if they own our woods, fields, and highways. Sightings from coast to coast dating back to the 1930s compel us to ask exactly what these beasts are, and what they want.

Researcher, author and newspaper reporter Linda S. Godfrey has been tracking the manwolf since the early 1990. In Real Wolfmen she presents the only large-scale cataloging and investigation of reports of modern sightings of anomalous, upright canids. First-person accounts from Godfrey’s witnesses – who have encountered these creatures everywhere from outside their car windows to face-to-face on a late night stroll – describe the same human-sized canines: They are able to walk upright and hold food in their paws, interact fearlessly with humans, and suddenly and mysteriously disappear.

Godfrey explores the most compelling cases from the modern history of such sightings, along with the latest reports, and undertakes a thorough exploration of the nature and possible origins of the creature.

My initial reaction is that possibly both Godfrey and her publicist need a refresher on the definition of the word "myth," but maybe I'm being narrow-minded.

Be that as it may, I will certainly be reading Godfrey's book.  And with that, I'll wrap this up, because all of this typing is making my paws tired.  Um, hands.  That's what I meant.  Hands.

Vampires, Yoda, and a butt-pinching ghost

Here at Worldwide Wacko Watch your alert research team (made up of myself and my two highly alert dogs) are keeping an eye on three developing stories.

First, we have reports out of India that politicians have placed a $2,000 bounty on vampires.  (Source)

Government officials in Dharampuri (Tamil Nadu state) have reacted with concern to claims by villagers that vampires are stalking the streets, and not with the kind of concern I would have shown, which would be to guffaw directly in the villagers' faces.  They have offered a reward of $2,000 (a considerable amount of money in those parts) to anyone who brings in a dead vampire.

Apparently, the whole thing started because some folks in the area reported that their cattle were being killed and drained of blood by vampires.  My reaction was that such acts are almost always caused not by vampires, but by another creature that doesn't exist, namely El Chupacabra.  Be that as it may, villagers reacted with panic, painting "holy signs" on their doors and leaving notes pleading with the vampires (known as "Ratha Kaatteri") to spare their lives, because everyone knows how a vampire will refrain from biting your neck if you just ask him nicely.

I'm happy to say that not all of the politicians have joined Team Ratha Kaatteri, however; one local leader, O. Jayaraman, said, "It is a big hoax.  Anti-socials whose illegal night activities such as bootlegging and liquor brewing have been disturbed are spreading rumors and killing cattle."

If they're as antisocial as all that, you have to wonder if they might not just kill some poor innocent person and fix the corpse up to look like a vampire to collect the reward.  Opportunities like this always seem to appeal to people's worst instincts.


Speaking of tempting fate, a man in Georgia has posted a broadside request asking all and sundry if they've ever seen an alien being that looks like Yoda.  (Source)

In his post, which strangely hilarious is, the man (who calls himself "Jax") recounts an experience he had twenty years ago:

I know it sounds silly but about 20 years ago my friend and I decided to drive out to an area (Highway 27, Hamilton Rd from Columbus, GA towards Hamilton) we were two dumb teenagers at the time who heard a rumor there were Satan worshipers out in the woods...as teenagers do, we decided to investigate it for laughs and have fun scaring ourselves.

We turned down a dirt road and followed it for a while until we wound up driving into a large open grass field. It was very dark out that night and quiet. While we did not see any "Satan worshipers", I decided to to try and scare my friend sitting in the passenger seat by placing my car in park in the big open field and I turned off my head lights for only about 10 or 15 seconds which put us in complete darkness. We could not even see each other let alone anything outside the car around us.

I then turned my headlights back on (the car was still running the whole time) and when we looked forward, there standing in front of my car, almost touching the front bumper was a creature to this day we cannot explain.

The creature was about 6 feet tall, had two legs but not human legs. They were bent like an animals hind-legs. From the waste up he literally looked like yoda. Grayish light green in color. Strange long ears. Somewhat flat but scrunched up face. Big round eyes which looked us both in the eyes. The eyes were on the front of the face (not on the side). It was definitely NOT a deer or any other normal animal of the woods. I don't remember seeing arms but it appeared to have two little short skinny arms in the front but I can't be certain. It only stood there for about 5 seconds then turned around and quickly went away into the night.

It didn't have a distinct run or walk or jump...it was somewhere in the middle of run, jump, hop, glide kind of movement when it hurried away. Even that was not a normal movement of any animal or person.

Naturally my friend and I screamed and I threw my car in reverse and raced out of there as fast as I could. We never went back to search for another sighting as one time was good enough for us but I am interested to know if anyone else has experienced the same?  

The owner of Phantoms and Monsters, the website on which this appears, ends by saying that Jax is interested only in "serious responses," which pretty much eliminates everything I was thinking of saying.

I keep trying to come up with some kind of appropriate commentary, but words fail me.  I guess there is no try, after all.


Lastly, we have a report out of Birmingham, England about a ghost that is haunting a pub, and is expressing himself by pinching waitresses' asses.  (Source)

The ghost, who has been nicknamed "Grasper," was first reported by assistant manager of The Queen's Arms, Paula Wharton.

"One night three of us were talking and I mentioned that I’d felt this pinch on my bum, and everyone else said that it had happened to them too.  It can’t have been a customer as I’ve never had my bum pinched when I’ve been stood behind the bar.  It’s happened to all of us on a few occasions, it can happen at any time, night or day."

Customers have been groped, too.  Frequent pub crawler Ashley Boland states, "I was standing at the bar enjoying a glass of wine when I suddenly felt a sharp pinch to my bum.  My instant reaction was that it might have been a sleazy bloke trying his luck, but when I spun around ready to give him a piece of my mind there was no one there.  I was really confused until the staff explained that there was a ghost running around the place pinching people on the bottom.  It was a little scary, but I suppose there are worse things that a ghost could do to you."

You have to wonder how the staff will handle this.  I mean, it's not like you can fire a spirit for sexual harassment.  Will they post signs?  "Caution, This Pub Is Haunted By An Ass-Groping Ghost: Bend Over At Your Own Risk."  That's probably what I would do, if I owned the pub -- but I'd also keep a careful eye on my male customers and employees, because chances are, one of them is in fact the "sleazy bloke" of Boland's account.  I have a feeling that Grasper the Over-Friendly Ghost will turn out to be all too human.

But who knows?  Maybe there is a ghost there, and maybe Yoda down to Georgia went, too.  But I'm not buying the Indian vampire story, sorry.  There's such a thing a straining credulity.

Accentuate the negative

I just found out why I (1) love astronomy, (2) have a fascination for UFOs, and (3) like Star Trek: The Next Generation:  My mother had Rh negative blood.

At least, that's the claim of an online book called The Rh Negative Factor, by Roberta Hill.  (You can read it in its entirety here.)

Hill's conjecture, which she claims to analyze in an "unbias" [sic] way, is that people with Rh negative blood have some pretty odd characteristics.  These include:

1. predominance of green or hazel eyes that change color like a chameleon, but also blue eyes.
2. true red or reddish hair
3. low pulse rate
4. low blood pressure and/or high blood pressure
5. keen sight or hearing
6. ESP
7. extra rib or vertebrae
8. UFO connections
9. love of space and science
10. a sense of not belonging to the human race
11. piercing eyes
12. para-normal occurrences
13. physic [sic] dreams
14. truth seekers
15. desire for higher wisdom
16. empathetic illnesses
17. deep compassion for fate of mankind
18. a sense of a 'mission' in life
19. physic [sic again] abilities
20. unexplained scars on body
21. capability to disrupt electrical appliances
22. alien contacts

Well.  My mom certainly was Rh negative; so are a good many people who have ancestry in southwestern France and northeastern Spain (and thus are likely to have Basque ancestry, amongst whom the allele for Rh negative blood is 65-70%).  It is responsible for Rh incompatibility syndrome, which killed my older sister and would have killed me but for the wonders of modern medicine and the RhoGAM shot, which suppresses an Rh negative mother's immune reaction against her Rh positive fetus.  My understanding was that the gene responsible for the condition was the result of a mutation that occurred amongst the ancestors of the Basques, probably something like 15,000 years ago.  But other than that, Rh negative doesn't seem to do much; people with two copies of the allele (like my mom) just don't have the Rh antigenic protein, and I thought that was pretty much that.

Little I know.

It turns out that besides all of the abilities and characteristics listed above, being Rh negative means that we are descended from some combination of: (1) the Merovingian kings; (2) fallen angels; (3) the Nephilim; (4) aliens; or (5) Jesus.

According to Hill, there's all sorts of evidence for this.  For example, let's look at my favorite paragraph from her book:

I can only offer theories as to how this gene deletion could benefit mankind. Perhaps this particular protein that the RHD gene encodes for is a problem somehow and prevents people from receiving hyperdimensional information from the spiritual realm, and that could be why people are saying that RH negatives (& RH negative recessive people +/-) are more psychic. The RHD gene could have been a mutation or could have been put there by the fallen angels (aliens) to control us and keep us from accessing information from God and the spiritual realm. As we know, Jesus proclaimed that he was the new temple, and his body was acting like the Ark of the Covenant and therefore his Pineal gland was acting as a receiver and transmitter of hyperdimensional communication. It has been proven that the Pineal gland has tiny microcrystals that could act much like a radio receiver, or just like a crystal radio. Jesus Christ bloodline could represent a race of people that can act as messengers for God or as beacons of the light, therefore a new race of shepherds to guide souls back to Eden. Perhaps this bloodline could be Magdalene towers of the flock, and thus they emit a higher frequency which actually helps to raise all energy forms into a higher dimension. This would work with the scientific principle of resonance, as towers set the higher frequency tone for the rest of the people, then everyone would start to resonate with higher frequencies. Eventually as more people with the RH negative blood type are born, then they could help to raise the frequencies. This would create the effect of a net that people would start getting caught up within for the harvest or the ascension of the human race. That would explain the mysterious fish story in John 21, because we would be the net that the apostles, under Jesus direction, throw into the cosmic sea to catch fish. That would also explain the Basque marker of R-M153, which is the number of fish that they caught in the story. The number 153 actually is representative of the net, rather than how many fish/people will be caught for the harvest of the souls.

Oh.  Okay.  I mean, my only question would be, "What?"  After reading this (and this is, unfortunately, only one of many passages in this book that left my eyes spinning), I found myself wondering whether she can possibly be serious.  "Catching fish in the cosmic sea?"  "Crystals in Jesus' pineal gland resonating to higher frequencies and allowing hyperdimensional communication?"  The whole thing makes me want to take Ockham's Razor and slit my wrists with it.

I always find it simultaneously maddening and amusing when people with (apparently) a slim understanding of science try to use scientific information to explain their favorite slice of the woo-woo pie.  (Fritjof Capra's The Tao of Physics is a good example, although I have to admit in Capra's defense that his understanding of quantum physics seems to be a good bit better than Hill's understanding of biology; I disagree with his conclusions, however, which are that quantum physics shows that the Zen Buddhists are right.)  Here, we have someone who has bought into the whole weird quasi-biblical Nephilim/aliens thing, and has latched onto a piece of biological research, and used it to support her conjecture that she's a descendent of superpowerful angelic beings.  (Because of course Hill herself is Rh negative; did I even need to tell you that?)

Anyhow, that's today's journey into the deep end of the pool.  I really recommend that you read Hill's book -- it's available free, online, at the site I linked above.  For the record, it reads much better after a liberal consumption of whatever your favorite libation is.  I found that after three pints of beer, it actually was beginning to make sense, which is one of the strongest arguments against consuming alcohol that I can think of.

Caveat rentor

Yesterday we considered the question of whether stating your disbelief in a religious "miracle" (despite evidence that it is a purely natural phenomenon) is blasphemy; today we consider the question of whether a supernatural belief (with no hard evidence at all) engenders any sort of financial responsibility on the part of others.

The whole thing comes up because of a story out of New Jersey (source) in which a couple, Michele Callan and the rather unfortunately named Josue Chinchilla, are claiming that they are entitled to break their lease and receive a refund of their security deposit because their rental home is haunted.

According to Callan and Chinchilla, they knew something was wrong almost from the first day they moved into the house they'd rented in Tom's River, on March 1.  The couple, and also Callan's children, began to experience taps on the shoulder, which (this is a direct quote from the article), "they chalked up to the adjustment period of moving into a new home."

You have to wonder about this a little.  I mean, I've moved a bunch of times, and had to adjust to a variety of things, from leaky plumbing to noisy neighbors to (I'm not making this up) an apartment that had an oven with a door that expanded and stuck shut when it heated up.  In all of those moves, one thing I have never had the need to adjust to was spectral taps on the shoulder.  This is fortunate, because if I got tapped on the shoulder when no one was around, I would scream like a little girl and then run out of the house.  I'm just that brave.

In any case, Callan and Chinchilla (will you please stop snickering every time I write the guy's name?) were in for worse.  Doors opened and closed on their own, clothes flew out of closets, and there were menacing voices including one that said, "Let it burn."  After 13 days they could take no more and moved into a hotel room, where they have been ever since.  They demanded to be released from the lease and filed suit to have their $2,250 security deposit back.  Understandably, their landlord, Richard Lopez, said no, and has filed a countersuit, alleging that the couple changed their mind about the lease for financial reasons, and is trying to concoct a story so that they can be released from the agreement they signed.

The problem is, of course, no one except the couple (and possibly their children) has heard the voices, seen the flying clothes and self-opening doors and all.  They apparently have zero hard evidence that their story is true.  I suppose it could be; as befits a skeptic, I'm not going to dismiss it out of hand, being that I also have no evidence that they're lying.  My inclination is that it is more likely that they're trying to weasel their way out of the lease, being that despite all of the thousands of claims for hauntings I've read about or heard described, I've never seen a single one that generated evidence that met my minimum standard for scientific validity.

But who knows?  Maybe this is the real deal.  I certainly wouldn't want to be the judge in this case.  How do you evaluate a case that hinges on a claim of the supernatural without your own beliefs being the determining factor?  I suspect that the case will ultimately be decided on the written terms of the lease -- most leases have a list of conditions under which the contract can be considered null and void, and the majority of them end with something like, "And no other reason will be considered valid."  As far as I've ever seen, none of them include, "This contract is considered invalid in cases of haunting that result in creepy voices and clothes being flung about."  So that will be that, and Callan and Chinchilla will be out on their ears without their $2,250.  Caveat rentor.

Of course, I've been wrong before.  With a sympathetic judge, it might go the other way -- which would certainly set an interesting precedent, and one that would be distinctly unfavorable for landlords.  In the end, it could become far easier for renters who discovered things they didn't like to get out of leases.  I might have even had a case regarding the oven door, which resulted in a perfectly nice batch of biscuits being turned into little disc-shaped charcoal briquets.