Weekend Edition Sunday, January 18, 2009 ·

Thirty Things I Believe

by Tarak McLain

I believe life is good.

I believe God is in everything.

I believe we're all equal.

I believe we can help people.

I believe everyone is weird in their own way.

I believe hate is a cause for love.

I believe that when I meditate I feel peaceful.

I believe we should be generous.

I believe brothers and sisters should be kind to each other.

I believe kids should respect their parents.

I believe I should not whine.

I believe people should wake up early.

I believe people should go outside more.

I believe in nature.

I believe people should use less trees.

I believe we should help the Arctic and rainforest animals.

I believe people shouldn't throw litter on the ground.

I believe people should not smoke.

I believe God is in good and bad.

I believe in magic.

I believe people should not give up.

I believe love is everywhere.

I believe that God helps us to have a good time.

I believe we live best in a community.

I believe we can protect people in danger.

I believe we should help the poor.

I believe it's OK to die but not to kill.

I believe war should not have started.

I believe war should stop.

I believe we can make peace

January 13, 2009

by Garrison Keillor

I like this government report saying that more Americans than before are reading novels and short stories, 113 million, in fact. Fiction is my cash crop, and that's good news. Too bad, though, that the report was issued by the National Endowment for the Arts. A deep-down aversion to a-r-t is one big reason half of America stays away from fiction.

They're afraid they'll come across a sentence like, "She looked out the window and saw the reflection of her own pale face against the drifted snow." Something girlish and moody like that.

These are guys who like to play video games in which you shoot people and spatter their blood on the wall. And what they might go for is manly fiction.

— "Read my book, buttface," said the novelist standing in the dim doorway of Brad's garage. "Pick it up and read it." "I ain't gonna read your book, it's got a lot of weird words like 'languid' and 'luminous' in it," said Brad. He wondered if that was a real gun in the novelist's hand. It was. BLAM BLAM BLAM. Blood spattered all over the garage and his workbench. Blood glittered on the gunstock that Brad had been sanding for his shotgun. He wouldn't be sanding it no more. No sir.

Something like that.

Read more here:

   By NICHOLAS BAKALAR

Drinking coffee may do more than just keep you awake. A new study suggests an intriguing potential link to mental health later in life, as well.

A team of Swedish and Danish researchers tracked coffee consumption in a group of 1,409 middle-age men and women for an average of 21 years. During that time, 61 participants developed dementia, 48 with Alzheimer’s disease.

After controlling for numerous socioeconomic and health factors, including high cholesterol and high blood pressure, the scientists found that the subjects who had reported drinking three to five cups of coffee daily were 65 percent less likely to have developed dementia, compared with those who drank two cups or less. People who drank more than five cups a day also were at reduced risk of dementia, the researchers said, but there were not enough people in this group to draw statistically significant conclusions.

Dr. Miia Kivipelto, an associate professor of neurology at the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm and lead author of the study, does not as yet advocate drinking coffee as a preventive health measure. “This is an observational study,” she said. “We have no evidence that for people who are not drinking coffee, taking up drinking will have a protective effect.”

Dr. Kivipelto and her colleagues suggest several possibilities for why coffee might reduce the risk of dementia later in life. First, earlier studies have linked coffee consumption with a decreased risk of type 2 diabetes, which in turn has been associated with a greater risk of dementia. In animal studies, caffeine has been shown to reduce the formation of amyloid plaques in the brain, one of the hallmarks of Alzheimer’s disease. Finally, coffee may have an antioxidant effect in the bloodstream, reducing vascular risk factors for dementia.

Dr. Kivipelto noted that previous studies have shown that coffee drinking may also be linked to a reduced risk of Parkinson’s disease.

The new study, published this month in The Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease, is unusual in that more than 70 percent of the original group of 2,000 people randomly selected for tracking were available for re-examination 21 years later. The dietary information had been collected at the beginning of the study, which reduced the possibility of errors introduced by people inaccurately recalling their consumption. Still, the authors acknowledge that any self-reported data is subject to inaccuracies.

By Stanley Coren, Ph.D. on January 16, 2009 in Canine Corner

On January 11, 2009 Mickey Rourke won the Golden Globe Award for best actor for his performance in Darren Aronofsky's "The Wrestler." When actors give acceptance speeches for such awards it is quite common for them to thank God and their family for the win, but Mickey Rourke thanked his dogs. If it had not been for the therapeutic effects of his relationship with his dogs, Mickey Rourke might not have been alive to accept this award.

In the film, "The Wrestler," Rourke plays the part of Randy "The Ram" Robinson, a professional wrestler who is now well past his prime, holding on to the remains of a once-famous career, and presented with the opportunity for a comeback. These are circumstances that run more than little parallel to the actor's own life story.

Rourke seemed destined to be a superstar in the 1980's. Most critics agreed that his performances in "Diner" (1982), "Rumble Fish" (1983) "9 ½ Weeks" (1986), and "Angel Heart" (1987) seemed to contain signs that the world was witnessing the appearance of another James Dean or even Robert De Niro.

Unfortunately Rourke's acting career eventually became overshadowed by his personal life and some seemingly eccentric career decisions. Directors such as Alan Parker found it difficult to work with him. Parker stated that "working with Mickey is a nightmare. He is very dangerous on the set because you never know what he is going to do". In addition Rourke began to show the effects of substance abuse. He associated with motorcycle gang members and was involved in several aggressive instances including a charge of spousal abuse (later dropped). Ultimately he virtually disappeared from the cinematic world.

Rourke's career was revived when director Robert Rodriguez cast him in the role of a sinister hit man in "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" (2003). Two years later Rodriguez again called upon him, this time to play Marv, one of the antiheroes from writer-artist Frank Miller's crime noir comic book series "Sin City" (2005). In that film Rourke delivered a unforgettable performance, alternately chilling and amusing, that reminded any doubters that he was still a force to be reckoned with. However to get to this stage in his life Rourke required the intervention of a dog.

The possibility that dogs can produce major psychological and health benefits for their human companions has been a subject of much recent serious psychological research. Scientific evidence about the health benefits of a relationship with a dog was first published about 30 years ago by a psychologist, Alan Beck of Purdue University and a psychiatrist, Aaron Katcher of the University of Pennsylvania. These researchers measured what happens physically when a person pets a friendly and familiar dog. They found that the person's blood pressure lowered, his heart rate slowed, breathing became more regular and muscle tension relaxed-all of which are signs of reduced stress.

A recent study published in the Journal of Psychosomatic Medicine not only confirmed these effects, but showed changes in blood chemistry demonstrating a lower amount of stress-related hormones such as cortisol. These effects seem to be automatic, they do not require any conscious efforts or training on the part of the stressed individual. Perhaps most amazingly, these positive psychological effects are achieved faster-after only five to 24 minutes of interacting with a dog-than the result from taking most stress-relieving drugs. Compare this to some of the Prozac or Xanax-type drugs used to deal with stress and depression. Such drugs alter the levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin in the body and can take weeks to show any positive effects. Furthermore, the benefits that build up over this long course of medication can be lost with only few missed doses of the drug. Petting a dog has a virtually immediate effect and can be done at any time. Recently, researchers extended this research by looking at a group of people aged 60 and older, living alone, except for a pet. Non-pet owners were four times more likely to be diagnosed as clinically depressed than pet owners of the same age. The evidence also showed that pet owners required fewer medical services and were more satisfied with their lives.Mickey Rourke and Loki

Depression was, indeed, Mickey Rourke's problem in the 1990's. In his case when all friends left him he was left with only his dog, for solace. Rourke admits that things had gotten bad enough so that went into a closet with his beloved dog Beau Jack, locking the door and planning to commit suicide with a drug overdose. In the end he just couldn't go through with it because of his relationship to his little Chihuahua-cross dog. Rourke describes the scene saying, "(I was) doing some crazy s**t, but I saw a look in Beau Jack's eyes, and I put the s**t down. That dog saved my life."

Rourke's life took a major turn after these events. He became active in animal welfare issues, including an involvement with PETA and its spay and neutering campaign. He increased the number of dogs in his house, first by adding Beau Jack's daughter, Loki. The depth of his bond to his dogs became obvious when Beau Jack died in 2002. He recalls, "I gave him mouth-to-mouth for 45 minutes before they peeled me off. Depressed? He died at my home, and I didn't go back for two weeks."

Rourke's canine family has continued to grow. He says "I have five now - Loki, Jaws, Ruby Baby, La Negra and Bella Loca--but Loki is my number one." In describing his relationship to Loki he added, "My dog [Loki] is very old, she is 16 and she is not going to be around for long so I want to spend every moment with her. When I was filming "Stormbreaker" in England, I had to have her flown over because I missed her so much. I had to get her from New York to Paris and Paris to England, and also pay for someone to come with her. The whole thing cost about $5,400."

Rourke seems to understand the therapeutic value of dogs. He says of Loki, "She's like a giant Xanax, you know? I'm not going to get religious on your ass, but I truly believe God created dogs for a cause. They are the greatest companions a man could ever have."

So it was that following his remarkable comeback to a successful acting career, and following his rise from the depth of depression, that Mickey Rourke was able to stand in front of colleagues to accept his Golden Globe award. However his speech was different from the others. It not only included references to the contributions and the support of colleagues and professional associates, but also contained the lines, "I'd like to thank all my dogs, the ones that are here, the ones that aren't here anymore, because sometimes when a man's alone that's all you got is your dog, and they meant the world to me."

* 24 January 2009 by Laura Spinney


JILL, 19, from Michigan, wants to go to university to read political science. There is just one problem: she keeps failing the mathematics requirement. "I am an exceptional student in all other subjects, so my consistent failure at math made me feel very stupid," she says. In fact, she stopped going to her college mathematics class after a while because, she says, "I couldn't take the daily reminder of what an idiot I was."

Last November, Jill got herself screened for learning disabilities. She found that while her IQ is above average, her numerical ability is equivalent to that of an 11-year-old because she has something called dyscalculia. The diagnosis came partly as a relief, because it explained a lot of difficulties she had in her day-to-day life. She can't easily read a traditional, analogue clock, for example, and always arrives 20 minutes early for fear of being late. When it comes to paying in shops or restaurants, she hands her wallet to a friend and asks them to do the calculation, knowing that she is likely to get it wrong.

Welcome to the stressful world of dyscalculia, where numbers rule because inhabitants are continually trying to avoid situations in which they have to perform even basic calculations. Despite affecting about 5 per cent of people - roughly the same proportion as are dyslexic - dyscalculia has long been neglected by science, and people with it incorrectly labelled as stupid. Now, though, researchers are starting to get to the root of the problem, bringing hope that dyscalculic children will start to get specialist help just as youngsters with dyslexia do.

For hundreds of millions of people this really matters. "We know that basic mathematical fluency is an essential prerequisite for success in life, both at the level of employment and in terms of social success," says Daniel Ansari, a cognitive neuroscientist at the University of Western Ontario in London, Canada. A report published in October 2008 by the British government claimed that dyscalculia cuts a pupil's chances of obtaining good exam results at age 16 by a factor of 7 or more, and wipes more than £100,000 from their lifetime earnings. Early diagnosis and remedial teaching could help them avoid these pitfalls.

People with dyscalculia, also known as mathematics disorder, can be highly intelligent and articulate. Theirs is not a general learning problem. Instead, they have a selective deficit with numerical sets. Put simply, they fail to see the connection between a set of objects - five walnuts, say - and the numerical symbol that represents it, such as the word "five" or the numeral 5. Neither can they grasp that performing additions or subtractions entails making stepwise changes along a number line.

Dyscalculics fail to see the connection between a set of objects and the numerical symbol that represents it

This concept of "exact number" is known to be unique to humans, but there is long-standing disagreement about where it comes from. One school of thought argues that at least some elements of it are innate, and that babies are born with an exact-number "module" in their brain. Others say exact number is learned and that it builds upon an innate and evolutionarily ancient number system which we share with many other species. This "approximate number sense" (ANS) is what you use when you look at two heavily laden apple trees and, without actually counting the apples, make a judgement as to which has more. In this view, as children acquire speech they map number-words and then numerals onto the ANS, tuning it to respond to increasingly precise numerical symbols.

The debate over exact number is directly relevant to dyscalculics, as tackling their problem will be easier if we know what we are dealing with. If we have an innate exact number module that is somehow faulty in people with dyscalculia, they could be encouraged to put more faith in their ability to compare magnitudes using their ANS, and learn to use calculators for the rest. However, if exact number is learned, then perhaps dyscalculia could be addressed by teaching mathematics in ways that help with the process of mapping numbers onto the ANS.

So how do the two models stand up? The innate number module theory makes one obvious prediction: babies should be able to grasp exact numbers. This was explored in the early 1990s. Using dolls, a screen and the fact that babies stare for longer at things that surprise them, developmental psychologist Karen Wynn, then at the University of Arizona in Tucson, showed that five-month-old infants could discriminate between one, two and three. They look for longer if the number of dolls that come out from behind the screen does not match the number that went in.

Some teams have taken a different approach to show that we are born with a sense of exact number. They argue that if exact number is learned, it ought to be influenced by language. Brian Butterworth from University College London recently did tests of exact number on children aged 4 to 7 who spoke only Warlpiri or Anindilyakwa, two Australian languages that contain very few number words. He found no difference in performance between the indigenous children and a control group from English-speaking Melbourne (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol 105, p 13179). This, he says, is evidence that "you're born with a sense of exact number, and you map the counting words onto pre-existing concepts of exact numbers".

Both of these approaches, however, have been criticised. Neuroscientist Stan Dehaene of the Collège de France in Paris points out that Wynn's finding also fits the rival theory - that babies enter the world with only an intuition about approximate number. This is because the ANS is concerned with ratios, so is reasonably reliable when the numbers involved are small, but falls off as the proportional size difference shrinks. A size ratio of 1:2 is more easily discernable than 9:10. Wynn tested babies on small numbers and, as Dehaene points out, "one versus two is a large ratio".

Count on learning

What is more, Dehaene has worked with an Amazonian tribe whose language only contains words for numbers up to five, and says it provides good evidence for the idea that exact number is learned (see "One, two, lots").

Supporters of the idea that exact number is learned also point to research showing how young children actually acquire an understanding of numbers. First they learn what the number word "one" means, then "two" and so on until, around the age of 4, they suddenly grasp the underlying concept of the number line and counting. "There is something very special occurring in development with exact numbers, and with the understanding of number words," says Dehaene.

First children learn what "one" means, then "two", and so on until they suddenly grasp the underlying concept

For now, the idea that exact number is learned has the upper hand, suggesting that dyscalculia is a learning problem. To complicate things further, however, new research indicates that this may only be part of the story.

It was long thought that the ANS contributes little to performance in mathematics. As it is essential for survival skills such as foraging, it was assumed that everyone would have comparable abilities with approximate number. This myth was exploded in 2008 when Justin Halberda of Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland, tested the ANS in 64 14-year-olds and was "blown away" by the variability he found (Nature, vol 455, p 665).

The teenagers, all of whom fell within the normal range for numeracy, watched an array of dots made up of two colours flash onto a computer screen. In each case, they had to say which colour was more numerous. As expected, their judgements became less accurate as the size ratio of the two sets shrank towards 1:1. The surprise was how much faster accuracy fell off in some kids than in others, with the poorest performers having difficulty with ratios as large as 3:4.

There was a further surprise in store when the team compared the teenagers' ANS scores with their mathematics test results from the age of 5 and up. "I literally jumped out of my seat when I saw the correlation going all the way back to kindergarten," says Halberda. The link remained even after IQ, working memory and other factors had been controlled for, and it only held for mathematics, not for other subjects. A subsequent larger study, including some children with dyscalculia, confirmed the suspicion that those with the number disorder had markedly lower ANS scores than children with average ability. This implicates a faulty ANS in dyscalculia.

Case closed? Not quite. The problem is that two other groups have come up with conflicting findings. In 2007, Laurence Rousselle and Marie-Pascale Noël of the Catholic University of Louvain (UCL) in Belgium reported that dyscalculic children, when asked to compare the magnitude of collections of sticks - say, five sticks versus seven - performed no worse than controls. However, they struggled when asked to circle the larger of two numerals, such as 5 and 7. Ansari's team has obtained a similar result. Both teams conclude that in dyscalculic children the ANS works normally, and the problem comes in mapping numerical symbols onto it.

How to account for these contradictory findings? Halberda, Ansari and Dehaene believe that there may be different types of dyscalculia, reflecting different underlying brain abnormalities. So in some dyscalculic individuals, the ANS itself is damaged, while in others it is intact but inaccessible so that individuals have problems when it comes to mapping number words and numerals onto the innate number system.

The existence of such subtypes would make dyscalculia harder to pin down, and make it difficult to design a screening programme for schoolchildren. At the moment, the condition goes widely unrecognised, and testing is far from routine. But where it is tested for, the tests are relatively crude, relying on the discrepancy between the child's IQ or general cognitive abilities and their scores in mathematics. Nevertheless, perhaps one day all children entering school will be assessed for various types of dyscalculia. Then teachers may be able to start intervention programmes based on teaching tools that are currently being tested.

One such tool, called The Number Race, in which children compete against a computer for rewards in a series of treasure hunts and other games, has been created by Dehaene and his colleague Anna Wilson. It assumes that the problem lies with the exact number system, so begins with tasks that the ANS is good at, involving numerical comparison, and gradually moves to more difficult tasks such as addition and subtraction. Testing of its effects is ongoing, but early indications are that it may help to bolster dyscalculic children's concept of number and simple transformations of numerical sets.

Even those researchers who remain convinced that dyscalculia is caused by a faulty exact number module believe that intervention could help. "After all, genetics isn't destiny - well, not entirely - and the brain is plastic," says Butterworth. His team is testing a piece of software that it designed in collaboration with the London Knowledge Lab to strengthen dyscalculic schoolchildren's basic number concepts. He suspects this will not be enough, however: "It may be the case that the best we can do is teach them strategies for calculation, including intelligent use of calculators, and get them onto doing more accessible branches of mathematics, such as geometry and topology."

Ansari also points out that children with dyscalculia could be helped immediately by practical measures already in place in schools for pupils with dyslexia, such as extra time in exams. And, of course, simply recognising dyscalculia as a problem on a par with dyslexia would make a huge difference. As Jill says, now that she knows what her problem is, "it's easier to have the confidence and the perseverance to keep working until I get it". That, in turn, means the condition becomes less damaging to her self-esteem and perhaps, ultimately, to her chances in life.


One, two, lots

Amazonian hunter-gatherers called the Mundurucú only have words for numbers up to 5. Does this affect the way they think about mathematical problems? Experts who think that the human concept of exact number is innate would predict not. However, Stan Dehaene of the Collège de France in Paris is among a growing number who believe that exact number is learned and therefore affected by our culture. He decided to test this idea with the Mundurucú.

Working with his colleague in the field, Pierre Pica, and others, Dehaene has found that the Mundurucú can add and subtract with numbers under 5, and do approximate magnitude comparisons as successfully as a control group. But last year the team discovered a big cultural difference. They asked volunteers to look at a horizontal line on a computer screen that had one dot at the far left and 10 dots to the right. They were then presented with a series of quantities between 1 and 10, in different sensory modalities - a picture of dots, say, or a series of audible tones - and asked to point to the place on the line where they thought that quantity belonged.

English-speakers will typically place 5 about halfway between 1 and 10. But the Mundurucú put 3 in the middle, and 5 nearer to 10 (Science, vol 320, p 1217). Dehaene reckons this is because they think in terms of ratios - logarithmically - rather than in terms of a number line. By the Mundurucú way of thinking, 10 is only twice as big as 5, but 5 is five times as big as 1, so 5 is judged to be closer to 10 than to 1.

The team conclude that "the concept of a linear number line appears to be a cultural invention that fails to develop in the absence of formal education". With only limited tools for counting, the Mundurucú fall back on the default mode of thinking about number, the so-called "approximate number system" (ANS). This is logarithmic, says Dehaene. When it comes to negotiating the natural world - sizing up an enemy troop or a food haul - ratios or percentages are what count. "I don't know of any survival situation where you need to know the difference between 37 and 38," he says. "What you need to know is 37 plus-or-minus 20 per cent."

Laura Spinney is a writer based in Lausanne, Switzerland

What Is He Thinking?
Michael Bader, D.M.H.
What Is He Thinking?

Decoding the male psyche.

By Michael Bader, D.M.H.

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Thursday , January 22, 2009

Former French President Jacques Chirac was rushed to a hospital after being mauled by his pet dog who is being treated for depression, in a dramatic incident that rattled the ex-president's wife.

The couple's white Maltese poodle, called Sumo, has a history of frenzied fits and became increasingly prone to making "vicious, unprovoked attacks" despite receiving treatment with anti-depressants, Chirac's wife Bernadette said.

"If you only knew! I had a dramatic day yesterday," she told VSD magazine. "Sumo bit my husband!"

Mrs. Chirac, 74, did not reveal where the former president was bitten, but said, "the dog went for him for no apparent reason."

"We were aware the animal was unpredictable and is being treated with pills for depression. My husband was bitten quite badly but he is certain to make a full recovery in weeks."

Chirac was taken to a hospital in Paris where he was treated as an outpatient and later sent home.

The 76-year-old was president of France for 12 years until 2007.

You need the absolute cutest Valentine's Day gift available? Look no further; the Teacup Poodle cannot be beaten in cuteness.

Little Poodle Puppies apparently like to sleep in small teacups for some reason.

If you take the puppy out of the teacup, it will wake up and speak some puppy talk. Put the puppy back in the teacup and it will go back to sleep with a little snore - sooo cute!

The Teacup Poodle is available in three color combinations. You can buy the cutest Valentine's Gift for $29.99 on Gizmine.

The following is a transcript of the inaugural poem recited by Elizabeth Alexander, as provided by CQ transcriptions.

Praise song for the day.

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

By Richard Halicks

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Sunday, January 18, 2009

JFK was the first president to invite a poet to take part in an inauguration, and you couldn’t argue with his choice. “Every time Robert Frost comes to town,” James Reston wrote for The New York Times, “the Washington Monument stands up a little straighter.” In truth, the poem Frost intended to read was not in his top five, or even his top 100.

Summoning artists to participate in the august occasions of the state

Seems something artists ought to celebrate.

So began “Dedication,” which Frost wrote for Kennedy. But the glare of the sun that day was such that the 86-year-old Frost couldn’t read his typescript. So he gave up on “Dedication” and recited one of his old classics, “The Gift Outright,” from 1942.

This land was ours before we were the land’s.

She was our land more than a

hundred years

Before we were her people.

—-

Thirty-two years later, Bill Clinton revived Kennedy’s idea, inviting Maya Angelou to his inaugural.

From “A Rock, a River, a Tree”:

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,

Cannot be unlived, but if faced

With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon

The day breaking for you.

Give birth again

To the dream.

Women, children, men,

Take it into the palms of your hands.

—-

For his second term, Clinton invited Arkansas poet Miller Williams.

“Of History and Hope”:

All this in the hands of children, eyes already set

on a land we never can visit —- it isn’t there yet —-

but looking through their eyes, we can see

what our long gift to them may come to be.

If we can truly remember, they will not forget.

—-

Barack Obama has invited poet Elizabeth Alexander, an African-American studies professor at Yale, to read at his inauguration. Here’s a sampling of Alexander, from her poem “Smile.”

When I see a black man smiling

like that, nodding and smiling

with both hands visible, mouthing

“Yes, Officer,” across the street,

I think of my father, who taught us

the words “cooperate,” “officer,”

to memorize badge numbers,

who has seen black men shot at

from behind in the warm months

north.

And a last burst of verse:


They never write doggerel

for the inaugural —-

only classy verse.

Each poet reads a poem

by the Capitol dome —-

and is never terse

Probably every poet

is afraid he’ll blow it —-

oh, such drama!

May this year’s recitation

exceed expectation —-

and please Obama.

—- Richard Halicks

LONDON (AP) — Britain's Royal Society of Chemistry says it has perfected the recipe for Oliver Twist's most famous meal — workhouse gruel.

Members of the society consulted historical sources and Charles Dickens' beloved novel to recreate the porridge, which is made from water, oats, milk and an onion.

They plan to ladle out bowls brimming with the gruel, which they describe as "barely palatable," in central London Tuesday.

But the scientists are warning that requests for more — in homage to the famous line, "Please, sir, I want some more" — just won't be tolerated.

The society says it undertook the task of recreating the Dickensian gruel to highlight its work on food.

The tasting comes the week the musical "Oliver!" reopens in London's West End.

Fresh Air from WHYY, January 5, 2009 · In her new book, Animals Make Us Human: Creating the Best Life for Animals, Temple Grandin examines common notions of animal happiness and concludes that dogs, cats, horses, cows and zoo animals — among other creatures — possess an emotional system akin to that of humans.

One of the nation's top designers of livestock facilities, Grandin also happens to be autistic. Her previous books include Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior and Thinking in Pictures.