Scientists are weird.

If you can't read what's written above, Francis Collins, (who was racing Craig Ventor in the summer of 2000, if you recall), thinks that the human genome project will soon be going GATTACA up in this piece. Thanks, Francis. Maybe go see the movie before you open your mouth next time. But wait:

What if he's correct?

What if, yes, there are several intangible Allahu a'lam factors that comprise human existence, but many of them - even the most seemingly Allahu a'lam of them all - are accessible to human discovery? Putting aside the obvious worries of genetic discrimination and profiling, I'm just saying/asking: is it possible that there are (or, what's wrong with there being) distinct segments of base-pairs that can be shown to produce complex experiential phenotypes (like intelligence, or 'behavior?') It's obvious that we're not going to discover such things without God's permission, anyway, so what's there to stress about?*

I think I don't mind if someone finds a gene, or combination of genes, or a reliably predictable combination of gene/environment interaction that yields a certain phenotypic result in an average person; I do mind if I become anchored to a genetic profile, though...

I have an opinion as to whether or not Collins' comments will find fruition - that's what the asterisk is for, but I'm not sharing right now.

In any case, I do think it's gonna go GATTACA up in this piece and genotyping will eventually be nothing more than a modern replacement societal prejudices.

More to come later on Peter Singer, the Kirby Puckett memorial, and rose-colored Islamic history glasses, insha`Allah.

Here's Johnny.

So it feels good not to have written anything for such a while. I planned to be away for a week, but weeks turn into months rather easily. Well, a month, at least.

Anyhow, in the middle I was given the chance to do this and help Ramla out with setting up this. The latter was a great event, in my opinion, bringing together a really broadcastworthy discussion that would've drawn huge crowds at other institutions.

On a side note, Kirby Puckett just died from the effects of his recent stroke. He was 44 years old. I feel horrible for a man who came from humble beginnings to join the major leagues (as a walk-on, I believe), soared to the uppermost heights in the sport, and sharply sailed foul within the twilight of his time in the public sphere.

Death is final and nothing else matters.

More to come - just needed to get that out.