and the radio says

Welcome to my journal.

I do science for a living and live in the Netherlands in a town that is infuriatingly Not Amsterdam, but that's the life of an itinerant academic. My heart belongs to London.

My annoying habits include prefacing random nouns with the term "evidence-based" and asking post-modernists "yes, but what's your question?" Cute pictures of owls make me teary. I'm probably shorter than you.

I use this journal for a hodge-podge of reasons that have evolved over time. See my interests for a fairly accurate characterisation of same. Right now I'm in a bit of a lull. Some posts are public; some aren't; but they all get locked after a month or so.

Yup.

Today in the BMJ, as well as some awesome debunking of winter myths, is this:

Christmas 2008: Food and Drink
Coca-Cola douches and contraception

Deborah J Anderson
Boston University School of Medicine

Coca-Cola douches were a part of folklore about birth control during the 1950s and 1960s, before effective contraceptive methods were readily available.1 It was rumoured that the acidity of Coca-Cola killed sperm, and the classic coke bottle provided a convenient "shake and shoot" applicator. Recently, an old study from our group confirming the spermicidal effects of various Coca-Cola formulations2 was awarded the 2008 IgNobel prize in chemistry.3 The press releases surrounding our IgNobel award might have repopularised this method, and soft drink douches are apparently still used to prevent pregnancy in resource-poor settings.4 There are, however, many reason why women should not rely on this method.

Coca-Cola is not a strong spermicide

In our study we mixed Coca-Cola with human semen (5:1 ratio) and reported that sperm were immobilised within one minute. A subsequent toxicology study found that Coca-Cola has only a weak spermicidal effect.5

Sperm can out race Coca-Cola
The rest here, if you have access

Last night we went to see Billy Bragg. Lots of 40-ish blokes there because Mr Bragg sings what is in their souls and they can't quite express it. Singalongs, commentary, raucous changing of lyrics, random guests, and my great great love of a man who is properly idealistic and doesn't give up. Hearts.

That was at Shepherds Bush Empire, where a couple weeks ago we also saw Jarvis Cocker. I still can't process how awesome it was to be given a powerpoint lecture on shopping malls and be sung to by the Lankster himself.

I am at a conference. Lots of interesting people to talk to (it's actually more of a residential workshop than a conference) and catch up with.

I'm looking forward to Christmas. Busyness is tiring.

Oh wow, this made me grin in a self-satisfied sort of way for about four seconds this morning:

Graphs on the death of Marxism, postmodernism, and other stupid academic fads

This blog is often a bit ... poorly-nuanced in its commentary, but graphs of keywords x time are graphs of keywords x time.

Of course all you good scientists out there will recognise that there is no baseline or control comparison plotting keywords like "string theory", "molecular", "renaissance", "market economy", or even "aubergine". So I was only mildly diverted, because I expect to see these baseline controls and the keyword "evolution" at some point in time before I'm really smug.

Caveat: Marx ain't all bad.

Last night we went to the Southbank for a performance of Olivier Messiaen's Quartet for the End of Time.

I'm not terribly familiar with Messiaen apart from the fact that musicians I adore do seem to idolise him. As a general rule I'm not a huge fan of 20th century orchestral music, especially if it has any whiff of avant garde about it. This piece, in eight movements, was written while Messiaen was a prisoner of war in Poland during WW2. A cellist, a clarinetist and a violinist were also incarcerated, and together with Messiaen on piano, they performed the piece to prisoners and guards in the camp. Alex Ross has written about it here.

It was an absolutely wonderful experience, as in, full of wonder. We were sat at jazz-club tables and squashy couches in the foyer (The Front Room) of the QE2 Hall, the room was was lit only by candles, and the lights over the Thames were beautiful. The quartet were totally into what they were playing, and though there were a couple of the movements that didn't ring my bells, it was more than compensated for by the opportunity to really watch the drama of the performance itself -- and I think that's what more modern orchestral music has in spades.

Because of the drama, I enjoyed very much the third movement (Abyss of birds) for the solo clarinet. But the highlight for me was the super-emotional fifth Louange à l'Éternité de Jésus, which had me welling up and the cellist in tears at the end. The final movement, which was an echo of the fifth but for violin and cello, was just gorgeous.

I'm not doing a good job in actually describing the music, but it was indescribable. Transporting. Something you could be absolutely immersed in without reserve. I've got a copy on order, but you can listen to bits here.