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Great piece from The New York Times

Obama and McCain Walk Into a Bar ...

Published: November 3, 2008

While Americans choose their next president, let us consider a question more amenable to science: Which candidate's supporters have a better sense of humor? In strict accordance with experimental protocol, we begin by asking you to rate, on a scale of 1 (not funny at all) to 9 (hilarious) the following three attempts at humor:

A) Jake is about to chip onto the green at his local golf course when a long funeral procession passes by. He stops in midswing, doffs his cap, closes his eyes and bows in prayer. His playing companion is deeply impressed. "That's the most thoughtful and touching thing I've ever seen," he says. Jake replies, "Yeah, well, we were married 35 years."

B) I think there should be something in science called the "reindeer effect." I don't know what it would be, but I think it'd be good to hear someone say, "Gentlemen, what we have here is a terrifying example of the reindeer effect."

C) If you saw two guys named Hambone and Flippy, which one would you think liked dolphins the most? I'd say Flippy, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's Hambone.

Those were some of the jokes rated by nearly 300 people in Boston in a recent study. (You can rate some of the others at TierneyLab, nytimes.com/tierneylab.) The researchers picked out a variety of jokes — good, bad, conventional, absurdist — to look for differences in reactions between self-described liberals and conservatives.

They expected conservatives to like traditional jokes, like the one about the golfing widower, that reinforce racial and gender stereotypes. And because liberals had previously been reported to be more flexible and open to new ideas, the researchers expected them to get a bigger laugh out of unconventional humor, like Jack Handey's "Deep Thoughts" about the reindeer effect and Hambone.

Indeed, the conservatives did rate the traditional golf and marriage jokes as significantly funnier than the liberals did. But they also gave higher ratings to the absurdist "Deep Thoughts." In fact, they enjoyed all kinds of humor more.

"I was surprised," said Dan Ariely, a psychologist at Duke University, who collaborated on the study with Elisabeth Malin, a student at Mount Holyoke College. "Conservatives are supposed to be more rigid and less sophisticated, but they liked even the more complex humor."

Do conservatives have more fun? Should liberals start describing themselves as humor-challenged? To investigate these questions, we need to delve into the science of humor (not a funny enterprise), starting with two basic kinds of humor identified in the 1980s by Willibald Ruch, a psychologist who now teaches at the University of Zurich.

The first category is incongruity-resolution humor, or INC-RES in humor jargon. It covers traditional jokes and cartoons in which the incongruity of the punch line (the husband who misses his wife's funeral) can be resolved by other information (he's playing golf). You can clearly get the joke, and it often reinforces stereotypes (the golf-obsessed husband).

Dr. Ruch and other researchers reported that this humor, with its orderly structure and reinforcement of stereotypes, appealed most to conservatives who shunned ambiguity and complicated new ideas, and who were more repressed and conformist than liberals.

The second category, nonsense humor, covers many "Far Side" cartoons, Monty Python sketches and "Deep Thoughts." The punch line's incongruity isn't neatly resolved — you're left to enjoy the ambiguity and absurdity of the reindeer effect or Hambone's affection for dolphins. This humor was reported to appeal to liberals because of their "openness to ideas" and their tendency to "seek new experiences."

But then why didn't the liberals in the Boston experiment like the nonsense humor of "Deep Thoughts" as much as the conservatives did? One possible explanation is that conservatives' rigidity mattered less than another aspect of their personality. Rod Martin, the author of "The Psychology of Humor," said the results of the Boston study might reflect another trait that has been shown to correlate with a taste for jokes: cheerfulness.

"Conservatives tend to be happier than liberals in general," said Dr. Martin, a psychologist at the University of Western Ontario. "A conservative outlook rationalizes social inequality, accepting the world as it is, and making it less of a threat to one's well-being, whereas a liberal outlook leads to dissatisfaction with the world as it is, and a sense that things need to change before one can be really happy."

Another possible explanation is that conservatives, or at least the ones in Boston, really aren't the stiffs they're made out to be by social scientists. When these scientists analyze conservatives, they can sound like Victorians describing headhunters in Borneo. They try to be objective, but it's an alien culture.

The studies hailing liberals' nonconformity and "openness to ideas" have been done by social scientists working in a culture that's remarkably homogenous politically. Democrats outnumber Republicans by at least seven to one on social science and humanities faculties, according to studies by Daniel Klein, an economist at George Mason University. If you're a professor who truly "seeks new experiences," try going into a faculty club today and passing out McCain-Palin buttons.

Could it be that the image of conservatives as humorless, dogmatic neurotics is based more on political bias than sound social science? Philip Tetlock, a psychologist at the University of California, Berkeley, who reviews the evidence of cognitive differences in his 2005 book, "Expert Political Judgment," said that while there were valid differences, "liberals and conservatives are roughly equally closed-minded in dealing with dissonant real-world evidence."

So perhaps conservatives don't have a monopoly on humorless dogmatism. Maybe the stereotype of the dour, rigid conservative has more to do with social scientists' groupthink and wariness of outsiders — which, come to think of it, resembles the herding behavior of certain hoofed animals. Ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is a terrifying example of the reindeer effect.

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On voting

This past weekend I called my parents, and my dad answered the phone gleefully chanting, "McCain! McCain! McCain!" His chanting annoyingly continued for seemingly forever despite a few attempts by me to start a conversation. When he finally stopped, he said calmly, "Don't worry. I'm voting for Obama." My dad is the one person in the world who really knows how to push my buttons and does it often with great enjoyment.

Last night my mom called and announced that she had some good news for me. Her name was mis-spelled on her voter registration, so she wasn't sure if she'd be able to vote. I hadn't been able to convince her to vote for Obama, so I tried to convince her to stay home instead. I know she won't. Ironically, my mom doesn't really follow "the issues", but she dutifully votes in every single election, trusting that the Republican Party chose the best candidate.

Glen and I were surprised to find out that voting is compulsory in both Australia and New Zealand. If you don't vote, then you can expect a fine in the mail. This goes for national elections down to local elections. Can you imagine that in the United States? There would probably be some voter fraud still, but at least no one would be outright disenfranchised. I just heard on the news that there were robocalls going out in a few key swing states telling voters that they could still vote on Wednesday. Wrong! GO VOTE NOW!

I'm headed out to my polling place now!

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We saw a tasmanian devil joey!

We were insanely lucky to see a tasmanian devil in the "wild" (i.e., not in captivity), and it was a joey (aka baby) no less. Unbeknownst to us, a devil gave birth to three joeys under the boardwalk leading up to a lodge near Tasmania's Cradle Mountain National Park; the joeys made occasional appearances aboveground. We had gone into the lodge to check out the dinner menu, and when we stepped out onto the boardwalk, we found the little joey scampering around. It looked so confused about what to do in our presence, running this way and that way but never back under the boardwalk.

At one point, the joey stopped just a foot away from me, staring at me with the most precious look that in my mind said, "Are you my momma?". As I raised my camera to take a photo, my lens cap clinked ever so slightly against the camera body, startling the joey and sending it back slipping and sliding across the boardwalk. In the few minutes that we got to enjoy this little show, I was only able to snap one non-blurry photo. We later ran into a few people who said that in thirty years of living in Tasmania, they had never seen a devil in the wild.

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Wombat love

Glen and I were recently trying to describe tasmanian devils and wombats to a friend who had never seen them before. The best we could  come up with was a cross between a small bear and a dog. I wanted to throw guinea pig into the mix, but Glen vetoed that. Anyhow, the devil is more like a dog, and the wombat is more like a bear. What sort of messed up hybrid animal to you have pictured in your mind now?

I had heard that you could sometimes spot wombats and echidnas near roadsides, so everywhere we drove in Australia my eyes were peeled. For the first two weeks of our trip, I didn't see anything--but then we got to Cradle Mountain National Park. We saw so many wombats there that I started to tire of looking at their cute little faces. As I finally walked past a wombat without cooing over it, I did a double-take. What was hanging out of the wombat's backside? Suddenly a couple skinny legs withdrew inside the wombat, and a little face poked out. It was a wombat joey! Wombats have pouches that face backwards so that dirt doesn't get inside when they climb into their burrows. There's only one catch to this brilliant anatomy--does the joey know when the mother is about to urinate or defecate? (Speaking of wombat poo, it is cube-shaped. No one knows why or how.)

We later saw a mother with its older joey, who was about half her size. The mother was lying in front of her burrow with sleepy eyes while the joey nudged her with its nose and climbed on top of her. She didn't move until I got too close. She jumped up and tried to push the joey into the burrow, but the joey couldn't be budged. I guess the joey was in its rebellious "teenage" phase!

         

Click here to download:
Wombat_love.zip (12026 KB)

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Talk about wasting natural gas!

The Crown Casino is by far the largest casino in Australia yet it is still tiny compared to Las Vegas casinos. In the casino tradition of excess, the Crown Casino has hourly Gas Brigade shows every night. Supposedly something like the equivalent of one household's annual natural gas consumption is used either per show or per flame each night. Either way that's a huge waste (and a completely unnecessary contribution to climate change)! At least the Bellagio's water show doesn't consume water (as far as I can tell).

Nonetheless, the Gas Brigade is a pretty spectacular fire show, particularly if you are standing near one of the flame columns where you can feel the heat. My video is below.

(p.s. I saw Joe Hachem, the 2005 World Series of Poker champ, in the Crown Casino poker room. He was getting interviewed for an online poker site about six feet away from me, and he kept glancing over at me probably thinking, "Why is this random woman looking at me so strangely?" I had figured the chances were low that the Australian Hachem would be at the Crown, and I didn't really remember what he looked like. I studied his face and tried to eavesdrop, but I wasn't sure if it was him. At the end of the interview conducted in hushed voices into a microphone, the scantily clad, very made-up, incredibly skinny interviewer, who probably has never played poker before, cheerily waved him off with "Thanks, Joe!")

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For the Jon Stewart fans out there...

Doesn't this momma wallaby look like she's doing Jon Stewart's impression of George W. Bush? Hehehe!

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A flat white and a bank deposit, please

I have seen joint gas stations and fast food restaurants before in America, but I had never thought of the joint bank and coffee shop we spotted in Sydney's CBD (aka downtown). It completely makes sense...sort of.

 

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Little penguins in Tasmania

Little penguins come out of the sea in the darkness of the night to return to their burrows by the beach. They only sleep for a few hours before journeying back to the sea, still under the protection of the darkness.


We were lucky to join a tour at Low Head, Tasmania to watch this up-close. We had to be very quiet and still near the penguins because they can die of fright (due to starvation after an incident). The first video shows the penguins waddling by; keep an eye on the top right corner for some extra entertainment. The second video is just for the audio. The penguins know they are too slow on land to escape predators, so they vocalize loudly to scare them (us) away.





   

Click here to download:
Little_penguins_in_Tasmania.zip (7741 KB)

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Sand art at Mission Beach, Queensland

When Glen and I first set foot on the sand at Mission Beach, I noticed that it was strangely but delightfully soft. Lowering my gaze away from the beautiful ocean scenery ahead, I found millions of small perfectly shaped balls of sand, all exactly the same size. What in the world would have had the patience to create this odd carpet stretching across the beach? Certainly not me nor any creature I could imagine.

As we continued down the beach to our chosen snorkeling spot, the carpet ended and was replaced by patterns of balls radiating from holes in the sand. Aha! I had a suspect in mind. On my hands and knees, I eventually found a soldier crab scrambling around its artwork. (See if you can find it in photo 3.)  As I obsessively inspected the hard work of the crazy crabs, I saw piles of balls in no particular arrangement and fans of tiny balls overlapping with those of much larger balls. Absolutely amazing!

To add to the strangeness of the beach, as the tide went out, small mounds of rope began to appear in the zone that had been underwater just half an hour earlier. As Glen and I approached a mound, it began to look more like some sort of animal dropping, grayish against the light tan sand underneath. Glen poked it with his snorkel-- more sand art. Did it drop from the sky?

Using my graduate school-educated brain instead of my childish wonderment, I solved this mystery too. The sand rope mound was gray because it had been in a prolonged oxygen-free environment likely many centimeters below the surface of the beach. As the tide went out, clams must have started digging furiously to stay under water. How the sand came out of the ground into a perfect mound of rope is beyond me.

Glen's patience for my curiosity finally wore thin, and we headed into the water on our pre-determined mission: to find a sea turtle. In two previous trips to Hawaii, Glen had swam with sea turtles when I had left his side for some reason. Nothing was going to tear me away from my lucky charm this time. Sure enough, we spied a sea turtle resting on the sea floor a meter or two below us after only ten minutes of snorkeling precariously among large rocks in the crashing surf. In my excitement to get a closer look, I startled the sea turtle, who glided away as fast as it could. Mission accomplished.

           

Click here to download:
Sand_art_at_Mission_Beach_Quee.zip (17417 KB)

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Diving at the Great Barrier Reef

With a month long vacation Down Under, Glen and I couldn't afford the transportation to get to the more pristine and biologically active parts of the Great Barrier Reef away from Cairns. We settled on visiting Oyster Reef and Upulo Cay with Ocean Spirit Cruises because the trip included an introductory dive. This meant that we learned how to clear our masks and mouthpieces of water but were otherwise dependent on our instructor to control our movements.

We rolled headfirst into the water from the launching deck at the stern, already taking slow deep breaths from our oxygen tanks. We first stayed at the surface and practiced breathing with our heads underwater. Easy. Our instructor then took us down one meter below the surface to practice clearing water out of our masks and mouthpieces. He went down the row of us one-by-one making sure that we were okay, using hand signals to communicate. As he left me to go to Glen, I grabbed his arm. Forgetting all the proper hand signals, I just began pointing at various places on my mask. Nothing was really wrong, but I was panicking with all sorts of horrible thoughts. What if we went deeper and my mask began filling with water to quickly for me to clear it or surface? What if I accidently let the mouthpiece fall out of my mouth, and without the instructor paying 100% attention to me, I couldn't remember how to clear the water? I almost asked the instructor to take me back to the surface, but I decided to tough it out. I was determined to see a giant clam.

With our arms linked together, the instructor guided us down into the depths of the water and towards points of interest he had already determined. I clutched my underwater camera in my right hand, but I was too panicked to use it. My focus was on breathing and calming my nerves. I just looked straight ahead until a giant clam resting on the sea floor came into view. The giant clam was everything I had hoped for—almost one meter across, vibrant purple flesh inside, and responsive to touch (our instructor poked it with his finger, and it slowly closed). I was finally enjoying myself and managed to snap a photo of a sea anemone that was home to a few bright orange clown fish scuttling in and out of the waving anemone tendrils. We found Nemo! Just as my throat started to feel uncomfortably dry and I felt the panic rising in me again, our heads broke through the surface of the water. Whew! We survived.

After lunch, we arrived at Upulo Cay, a tiny island of sand just visible under the high tide. We were amazed that tiny little white sand islands in the midst of sparkling blue seas like those seen on TV actually existed. As waves crashed against our legs from all directions, we put on our snorkel gear and swam back to the boat, anchored a short distance away in deeper water. We were disappointed in not running into any sea turtles or many colorful fish as we had in Kauai and Maui. However, "complimentary" glasses of wine, slices of delicious sponge cake, and the salty ocean breeze kept our spirits up as we returned back to port.

                       

Click here to download:
Diving_at_the_Great_Barrier_Re.zip (7876 KB)

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