8/2/26

soga16: (Default)
hii world

I hope you like my little science blog. I plan on posting some big things here and also venting about my life in general.
I won’t lie, I only came here because I hate Twitter and Tumblr. Over there I feel watched, like I can’t say any random nonsense without being judged. Here I feel safe. Quiet.

You know what I mean, right? It’s weird, I know. I just feel like I can be myself here.
Anyway! That’s it, I think. O_O

MEE

8/2/26 12:50
soga16: (Default)
Tags:
soga16: (Default)
So, in yet another one of my researches into science and my unconditional affection for Shinobu Kocho, I discovered that our incredible scientist Robert Koch (note the almost identical names) has a special day dedicated to him — or rather, to tuberculosis. The discovery of the tuberculosis bacillus on March 24, 1882, was so significant that March 24 is now recognized as World Tuberculosis Day. The 24th!!! Exactly the same day that Shinobu Kocho was born. I admire them both so much that I would gladly change my surname to Koch.


Tags:
soga16: (Default)
There are certain names that do more than simply inspire me; they remain constantly on my mind, returning whenever I study, read, or reflect on the foundations of science. Andreas Vesalius, who dared to correct human anatomy with his own hands and challenge long-held misconceptions, and Robert Koch, whose tireless investigation of unseen enemies forever transformed our understanding of disease, hold a place of great admiration in my studies. Their work represents more than historical milestones; it reflects courage, discipline, and an unwavering commitment to observation and evidence.

I do not admire them in a superficial way, nor merely as figures from the past. I feel motivated to follow their methods, to repeat their observations, and to understand the reasoning that guided their discoveries. Through their clarity of thought and intellectual rigor, they demonstrate what it truly means to study life, illness, and the human body with honesty and precision.

This motivation naturally extends into practice. As an enthusiast of animal dissection, I often find myself reflecting on how strongly I wish to dissect certain creatures: rabbits, pigs, birds (avian species in general), chickens, and fish. In all honesty, I must admit that the dissection of fish is not among my greatest strengths; I pursue it mainly because suitable animals for dissection are not so easily obtained. To dissect, to observe, and to record both structure and decay is therefore not an act of obsession, but a deliberate effort to understand the natural world more deeply. It is, in its own way, a continuation of a scientific legacy—one grounded in curiosity, patience, and respect for the knowledge built by those who came before us.
Tags:
soga16: (Default)
I would like to talk a little about how my introduction to science happened and how I became fascinated with Robert Koch. I remember it as if it were yesterday.

My mother was travelling to another city to take a civil service examination — a large city. While she was taking the exam, my father took me and my younger sister out for a walk. The city was, in fact, very welcoming and lively. I remember visiting many places before eventually stopping at a library. It was small, yes, but it contained so many books that I simply could not remain still.
My past self had always been slightly obsessed with science, so I ran through the shelves and large tables, searching for the small labels that read “Biology,” or perhaps “Science,” “Chemistry”… When I finally found the general science section, I picked up several books and began to flip through them until I came across one whose title I unfortunately no longer remember. In general, it discussed spirituality and science at the same time. I would truly love to read it again, as I never had the opportunity to finish it; if anyone happens to know its title, a comment would help me greatly.
In any case, I sat down in an armchair and began reading right there. The beginning was difficult to understand: complex words and passages whose meanings I could barely grasp. But as I often say, if you read a book and do not understand it at first, the worst thing you can do is abandon it and give up. So, even
without understanding much, I continued reading… until, gradually, the words began to make sense.

That was when I noticed a specific name: “Robert Koch.” I do not remember exactly what was said about him, but I recall reading about vaccines and about how Koch discovered bacteria in what seemed to be a contradictory manner. While many asked, “Why did this disease appear?”, Koch asked a different and far more insightful question: “What is always present in the body when the disease appears?”
Shaping the question in this way and shifting the perspective toward something invisible to society was, for me, truly transformative. To my younger self, that was the correct way of thinking — the way that great scientists of the world had always reasoned.
I had to stop reading when my parents returned to the library to leave. I remember pulling my father aside and asking, “Robert Koch invented the vaccine, didn’t he?” — because the book did not state this explicitly. The sentences confused me, but I had understood the context and connected the ideas in my mind: “If he discovered bacteria… then he must have discovered the vaccine as well.”
And BOOM — later on, my father researched it and found that I was partially correct. Of course, not only Koch, but also Louis Pasteur played a crucial role. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I was already a devoted fan of Shinobu Kocho, and upon noticing the similarity of the surnames and the fact that both were scientists, my focus inevitably remained on Robert Koch alone. My apologies, Louis Pasteur XDD

In any case, this is how I discovered Koch and began learning more about him, growing fond of his scientific perspective and finding inspiration for future study. I dream of the day when I might become like him — or at least somewhat similar — contributing to and perhaps revolutionising science and biomedicine.
Tags:
soga16: (Default)
Once again, my research led me to a place I truly enjoy research, kids!

While once more digging deeper into the life of our dear Koch, I discovered that he was married twice, to two different women. His first marriage was to Emmy Fraatz in 1867, a union that ended in divorce some years later. In 1893, he married again, this time to Hedwig Freiberg, who was twenty-nine years younger than him.
I went out of my way to learn more about the marriage between Koch and Hedwig because I had hoped—perhaps naïvely—that Koch would turn out to be better than other married scientists I had read about. And yet, to my disappointment, nothing really changes. Apparently, scientists are among the worst possible people to be in a relationship with. One day, I may even make a list of the top five worst scientists in history for a stable and healthy marriage.
Despite everything, I was still taken aback when I read that Koch was introspective and—believe it or not—a difficult husband. Fortunately, he was not as horrifying as J. Marion Sims, the so-called father of gynecology, who turned family life into a cold clinical nightmare; nor as cruel as Fritz Haber, who forced his wife—Germany’s first woman to earn a doctorate in chemistry—to abandon her studies and career in order to serve him as a housewife.
Faced with such horrors, one might conclude that Koch was merely questionable, yet tolerable in daily life. Unfortunately, the story worsens. Robert Koch was well known for conducting experiments on his own wife—not physical experiments, but emotional ones. Another troubling fact is that he abandoned his first wife, who had supported him despite everything, even while living surrounded by glass tubes and chemical fumes, in order to be with a seventeen-year-old model—Hedwig Freiberg. At the time, this caused a major scandal.
I write this to show that, once again, after quick research and well-read books, I am forced to conclude that all scientists—or at least a large majority of them—are completely mad and deeply questionable. I admire them all, yet I cannot ignore how socially repugnant many of them were, even if I understand this as part of the scientific stereotype.

At times, I find myself wondering: Must I become so obsessed with science that I grow cruel to the people around me, all in the name of producing “good” research? I hope that to be an intelligent, well-informed scientist—perhaps even one worthy of a Nobel Prize—I will not need to become socially repellent as so many before me were.

Once again, I am left asking: does science truly need to be this cruel?
Tags:

Profile

soga16: (Default)
soga16

February 2026

S M T W T F S
1234567
8 91011121314
15161718192021
222324 25 262728
Page generated 21/2/26 13:04

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags