My friend June Thunderstorm and I once spent a half an hour sitting in a meadow by a mountain lake, watching an inchworm dangle from the top of a stalk of grass, twist about in every possible direction, and then leap to the next stalk and do the same thing.

My friend June Thunderstorm and I once spent a half an hour sitting in a meadow by a mountain lake, watching an inchworm dangle from the top of a stalk of grass, twist about in every possible direction, and then leap to the next stalk and do the same thing.

I can take it no more. I wanted to dig deeper into the good stuff done by the ENCODE consortium, and have been working my way through some of the papers (not an easy thing, either: I have a very high workload this term), but then I saw this declaration from the Electronic Frontier Foundation.

On September 19, the Ninth Circuit is set to hear new arguments in Haskell v. Harris, a case challenging California’s warrantless DNA collection program. Today EFF asked the court to consider ground-breaking new research that confirms for the first time that over 80% of our DNA that was once thought to have no function, actually plays a critical role in controlling how our cells, tissue and organs behave.

I am sympathetic to the cause the EFF is fighting for: they are opposing casual DNA sampling from arrestees as a violation of privacy, and it is. The forensic DNA tests done by police forces, however, do not involve sequencing the DNA, but only look at the arrangement of known variable stretches of repetitive DNA by looking at just the length of fragments cut by site-specific enzymes; they can indicate familial and even to some degree ethnic relationships, but not, as the EFF further claims, “behavioral tendencies and sexual orientation”. Furthermore, the claim that 80% of our genome has critical functional roles is outrageously bad science.

This hurts because I support the legal right to genetic privacy, and the EFF is trying to support it in court with hype and noise; their opposition should be able to easily find swarms of scientists who will demolish that argument, and any scientifically knowledgeable judge should be able to see right through the exaggerations (maybe they’re hoping for an ignorant judge?). That conclusion, that 80% of the genome is critical to function, is simply false, and it’s the notorious dishonest heart of ENCODE’s conclusions.

When I began writing, distractions were all low-tech. I had to worry about typewriter ribbons and correction fluid, for God's sake. There was no possibility of spending an apparently productive day making backup files, defragmenting already tidy hard drives, emailing, watching grainy online movies of cats falling over, or playing virtual patience. (I once tried a more sophisticated computer game and, after many months, managed to advance my character by one level and put him into a loop of crouching, rocking and saying, "Oh, no.") Nevertheless, I could still burn away whole pre-Amstrad weekends in keeping busy, rather than writing. Ever re-hung and filed your clothing along a colour gradient, or cleaned all your grouting with a toothbrush? I have.

Robert Louis Stevenson once said that he didn't like writing, he liked having written. And I think I know how he felt.

Two reports of chimpanzees tending their dead provide poignant examples of how humanity’s closest relatives grieve for the dead, a behavior once thought unique to humans. In one report, two mothers in a chimpanzee colony in Guinea carried the dead bodies of their infants for weeks. In the other, chimps at a safari park in Britain cared for an elderly female in her final days. “We propose that chimpanzees’ response to death has been underestimated,” wrote researchers led by University of Stirling psychologist James Anderson in a paper published April 26 in Current Biology.

A 50-year-old chimp named Pansy, kept at the Blair Drummond Safari and Adventure Park in Stirlingshire, Scotland, grew lethargic in November 2008. Shortly afterward, the park’s chimpanzees were moved indoors for winter, but Pansy continued to grow weaker, and stopped leaving her nest.

Pansy’s companions were her daughter, a 20-year-old female named Rosie; Blossom, another 50-year-old female; and Blossom’s 20-year-ol

Disturbing experiences that feel both familiar and strange are instances of the “uncanny,” an intuitive concept, yet one that has defied simple explanation for more than a century. Interest in the particular occurrences of the uncanny, in which humans are bothered by interaction with human-like models, began as a psychological curiosity. But as our ability to design artificial life has increased—along with our dependence on it—getting to the heart of why people respond negatively to realistic models of themselves has taken on a new importance. Attempts to understand the origins of this reaction, known since the 1970s as the “uncanny valley response,” have drawn on everything from repressed fears of castration to an evolutionary mechanism for mate selection, but there has been little empirical evidence to assess the validity of these ideas.

New findings published in PNAS this September are putting some long-overdue experimental rigor behind the uncanny valley. Last spring at Princeton’