Biology blog Tetrapodzoology reports on the adorable and repulsive tag team of Frog und Arachnid, livening up elephant dungheaps all over the world:
You might be surprised to learn that microhylids in Peru, India, Sri Lanka and perhaps elsewhere have developed close relationships with large spiders. One of the first published discussions of this phenomenon was produced by Crocraft & Hambler (1989). Noting a close association between individuals of the Dotted humming frog Chiasmocleis ventrimaculata and the burrowing theraphosid tarantula Xenesthis immanis in southeastern Peru (but read on), they suggested that the spider - well capable of killing and eating a frog of this size - used chemical cues to recognise the frogs. Young spiders have sometimes been observed to grab the frogs, examine them with their mouthparts, and then release them unharmed. Microhylids are probably unpalatable due to their skin toxins, and this might explain how this association arose in the first place [the image above shows a tarantula walking over a Dotted humming frog.
Apparently Yucky Frog and Savage Spider inhabit the same hidey holes, stand around the same patches of tree bark, and only tangle when the tarantula mistakes the frog for something delicious and reels it in for a good palping. Frog’s skin chemicals save it further trauma, and they go about their business.
But the partnership goes further than that. While the presence of a massive tarantula noticeably lowers the presence of large frog-eating predators such as snakes, the frog eats ants that would carry off the tarantula’s eggs. In the photo below, a clot of tarantulas are devouring a different sort of frog, while a wee microhylid frog stands by, pretending not to notice.
Stories like these force me to consider the perspective of the creatures involved. One cannot help imagining what it’s like to feel comfortable, curled up in a hole with a prickly monster six times your size. Never knowing when she’s going to grab you, stuff you in her mouth, and taste.
You can only hope that you stink in the proper way.
There seems to be some dispute amongst the animals of the woods as to whether or not Mr. Ando is a penguin as he claims or is, in actuality, a human. There is no disputing that all of the aforementioned animals have the same, human face or that a fish sings a song about loving Mr. Ando and wishing to sleep with him even though he is a fish and smells very fishy. All this from the mind of Takashi Taniguchi.
This was going to be included in a Saturday Morning Cartoons post but really, it deserves to be seen alone, in “high quality”, not shoved inside some standard quality SMC playlist. And while it it has alreadyspreadacrossthe tubes, it deserves to be enshrined here.
Cat Shit One — Apocalypse Meow in the U.S. — was a Japanese manga that came out in 1998. It followed the day to day routine of an American recon unit in Vietnam called, yes, Cat Shit One. The various nationalities involved are represented by different animals: Americans are rabbits, the French are pigs, the Australians koalas and so on. Interestingly, the final chapter of volume 1 is titled “Dog Shit One” and features humans.
The proposed series takes place, not in Vietnam, but in Iraq and features turbaned, terrorist camels and “middle eastern music”, which consists of women wailing in a musical way. This makes the moment when the terrorist camels gun down a kidnapped rabbit especially poignant.
Whether or not this is meant to be serious at all is unknown but I have a hard time imagining it as such. It has as much to do with the animals as anything else I suppose; the gravity of the situation undercut as it is by images of a bunny firing an RPG into a truck as camel-terrorist fly through the air with A-Team-like aplomb; and close quarters combat looses some of its oomph when Mr. Flopsy is the one wielding the M4A1. Still, we can perhaps look forward to scenes of hooded camels hooked up to electrodes. That will be fun, won’t it?
Some amazing footage of Macropinna microstoma, known as barreleyes or spookfish. They get their name from their large, distinct tubular eyes, which can be rotated inside the transparent dome of the skull enabling them to view prey above them. This is especially handy for avoiding the stinging cells of jelly-fish, their main source of food. It also helps provide industrial strength nightmare fuel.
Gloria Swanson wearing what may or may not be a monkey fur coat. “Wearing” may not be a completely apt description, as both her expression and posture give her the air of a coat rack, upon which a number of simian pelts have been draped. It is strikingly reminiscent of our own Miss Gauger who makes annual trips to various, monkey-laden locales where she lures the poor beast with indigenous delicacies. When the timid anthropoids are within range, she quickly dispatches them either with a single shot from her pearl handled Derringer or a swift and brutal blow with “Esmeralda” her trusty and ever present truncheon.
I once asked her why there was a need for such trips, especially when one considers that before each murderous campaign she ritually burns the Ulster fashioned from the previous year’s harvest, regardless of its condition. “The only good monkey coat is a fresh monkey coat,” she replied and began to absentmindedly caress Esmeralda. I realized then that it would be best if our conversation concluded and quickly made my exit, leaving the barely audible sound of Eliza’s whispering behind me.
I’ve got to hand it to the SPCA, I never imagined they possessed the testicular fortitude to pull off such a bold entrepreneurial maneuver. The idea makes sense of course; the SPCA euthanizes thousands of unadoptable animals every year. Can you really blame them for thinking outside the box to such an extravagant degree given the current state of the economy? I mean really, why not monetize that kind of resource? If anything, this is the ultimate in turning dead lemons into hilariously offensive lemonade.
Now, before you whip yourself into a self-righteous froth, know that I abhor the usage of animal skins in fashion. I’ve always been a staunch believer in the idea that dead animals should be worn whole or not at all. That being said, Rosenberg and I have already pre-ordered our Greyhound hoodies.
Everything good about MTV lives in a world that exists, long since passed, in the memories of those who were there called “Remember When”. It’s a world where Music Television was actually music, on television and where the newest and craziest in modern animation was shown on something called Liquid Television accompanied by shows like Beavis and Butthead, Aeon Flux, The Head, and The Maxx. It is a place that many look back on with great fondness with good reason.
My relationship with MTV was not immediate. It was instead something that I had to acquire through a middleman, my family not having cable. It was something that I could only watch whilst visiting a friend or, in the case of The Maxx and Aeon Flux, by having it taped by my friend Will. It was a weekly ritual, the same VHS cassette exchanged back and forth, previous episodes taped over to make room for my fix. If I had more foresight, I would have no doubt bought extra cassettes so a to preserve the series but, alas, I was not the forward thinking in my youth.
The Maxx remains a show that, upon repeated viewings all these years later, has lost none of its impact. It still works, at least for me. Surely, it can be argued that, in its abbreviated form, it is lacking in comparison to the comic book that spawned it, and there is some truth there. The relationships that tie all of these wounded characters together are explored far less here, especially the relationship between Julie and the titular hero. This can be forgiven though, no television series could have really handled Sam Keith’s twisted, meandering story and psychological musings. The man himself could barely handle it, his panels cramped and scattered, requiring arrows to guide the reader’s eye.
The TV show is, then, The Maxx distilled and in that regard it succeeds brilliantly. Keith’s artwork animates beautifully and the voice work and music are some of the best in a cartoon. It is a starkly melancholy show, something I’m not sure everyone was expecting from a cartoon. Featuring none of the bombast of Aeon Flux or The Head it was instead an exploration of trauma, violence, and, ultimately, redemption. It is a show well deserving of your Saturday morning if you’ve not seen it before and well worth it for those who have; to sit down and look back to the world of “Remember When”.
Just a note: Take a look at this while you can for the YouTube Police’s wrath is swift and brutal.
Since 2000, over 2000 scientists from 82 nations have been hard at work, going door to door, clipboard in hand conducting the first Census of Marine Life. Eight years into it, fascinating new discoveries have been made, one of which focuses on this little fellow, Megaleledone setebos, which lives in the Southern Ocean around Antarctica and can grow up to one meter in length.
This particular cephalopod is now thought to be the common ancestor of the first deep-sea octopuses. Dr Jan Strugnell, a biologist at Queen’s University Belfast recently headed a study which compared the genes of various octopuses and incorporated fossil records finally concluding that the first divergence from Megaleledone occurred roughly 30 million years ago.
The census continues even as I write this, and is scheduled to be completed by 2010, more than enough time to find R’lyeh.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
