They’re rather dark and murky, but here: home movies of a creature smarter than any fundamentalist.
Pharyngula
Evolution, development, and random biological ejaculations from a godless liberal
They’re rather dark and murky, but here: home movies of a creature smarter than any fundamentalist.
If you’ve been following the Australian lungfish saga, there’s a new development, and it’s an ugly one. As the Noosa Journal reports (they don’t seem to have a web accessible archive, so this issue may vanish soon; here’s a screenshot), the Queensland government is actively suppressing scientific information that highlights the environmental costs of building the damaging dams.
The Beattie Government has ordered the shredding of a vital report used to list the unique Queensland lungfish under Federal environmental laws, according to a world authority on the species, Macquarie University’s Professor Jean Joss. The shredding order follows suppression of the report shortly after it was published, she said.
If the order is carried out, a vital piece of evidence will have been destroyed to support a challenge to the Mary River Dam under Federal Environmental laws.
The suppressed study analyzed the effects of a small weir that was put on the Burnett River, showing that it had a drastic effect on lungfish breeding and recruitment, and predicted that the greater effect of a dam would “reduce recruitment to a Critically Endangered level, at which extinction is assured.”
You know the other side is completely in the wrong when they’re reduced to hiding reality. The Queensland government seems to have adopted the American Republican style of policy making.
Oooh, I love this idea: art prints on a plastic adhesive that you just stick on the wall. They’ve got squid art! Unfortunately, they’ve also got a hefty price, and doubly unfortunately, my wife has this annoying thing called “taste” which precludes me slapping squid up everywhere in my house.
(via the aptly named Squid)
I’m sorry to say that on our last trip to New York, we missed this museum.
Peruse an 1814 sketchbook by the Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai and eventually you’ll come across a bashful, wide-eyed octopus. You’d never guess that the innocent creature leads a secret life of debauchery. But a few years later, there he is on a woodblock print, still wide-eyed, now presented by Hokusai in a moment of infamous passion—his bulbous head pushed between the legs of a young woman, delivering a rather well-received session of cunnilingis. Hilarious and startling, it’s just one example of the explicit shunga, or “pictures of spring,” in an exhibition at the Museum of Sex surveying four centuries of Japan’s cartoonish pornography.
Next time!
(via 3quarksdaily and Jennifer Ouellette)
Troutnut has put up a beautiful page of Aquatic Insects of American Trout Streams. It’s all about using insects to catch fish, but it’s still an excellent example of how outdoor sportsmen (and in this case, soon-to-be grad student) can put together scientifically interesting information, too. If you don’t know a mayfly from a caddisfly, it’s full of photographs of the different organisms that might flit out of your nearby stream and park on your screen doors to weird you out.
David Neiwert took a vacation…and his home movie is worth watching and listening to.
But when you do shed your speedo, don’t throw it in the water—it’s bad for dolphins and other living things. Read about the poor dolphin who tried to wear a speedo—it took an emergency depantsing team to rescue him.
(via One Good Thing)
How would you like to see that coming out of the dark at you?
Here’s a dramatic account of divers meeting a school of Humboldt squid—the beasts are as big as a man, and aggressive.
As I floated there transfixed, a large squid moved to within two feet and flashed again. Mesmerized by the strobe effect, I didn’t see that another squid was rushing in from my left. Bam! It hit me with a tentacular strike that felt like being hit with a baseball bat square in the ribs. Shocked by the power of the strike and unable to breathe because of a cramp in my chest, I turned to see what had hit me and saw four more squid headed toward me. The first came in so fast that I could barely track it with the camera, and then Bam! It struck the camera, which in turn struck me in the face. I was starting to feel like I was in a barroom brawl.
After five attacks of equal ferocity, the magnificent monsters decided I was inedible and had no further use for me. With a few blasts from their massive jet funnels, they disappeared into the depths within seconds. Dazed and excited, I realized the entire ordeal lasted less than one minute. After dangling in the water for 30 minutes looking for any signs of their return, I surfaced and climbed into the boat. I later discovered bruises on me the size of oranges, as well as several scratches in my anti-squid armor suit. The system was working, but each attack left its mark — and this was just the first dive of dozens yet to come.
Cool…an anti-squid armor suit. That could be handy, someday.
