January 23, 2010

Wandering Ponies #3

The Internet pretty much begins and ends with this. The vacant, cock-eyed horse stare. The tiny moustachioed gentleman with the shrunken, useless legs. The buxom peasant woman with the giant meaty paws. It’s got it all. You’ll probably listen to it ten times in a row before realising that you just listened to it ten times in a row before listening to it another ten times in a row. Youtube for techno, acoustic and heavy metal remixes.

SHUT UP WOMAN, GET ON MY HORSE

For a number of reasons (or just one who rather inconveniently requires vaccinations during the ridiculously expensive Festival Season ) I’m still too poor to buy the t-shirts I’ve had on my WANT list for months. But those of you who are in a more fortunate financial situation might want to consider picking up a The Open Dinosaur Project t-shirt here. And if you buy one for me while you’re at it I’ll sing a song about you. In my head. And then I’ll tell you about it, that it was really awesome and stuff and you’ll ask if you can hear it but I would have forgotten it by then because I don’t write these things down. Sound good?

As close to a living theropod as you could probably get, the Secretarybird is pretty much the coolest bird ever. Too bad the zoo guy ruins everything with his shit jokes. You could recruit like twenty of these to form a personal army they’d be the most dainty deadly weapon ever.

Brand new site, Pterosaur.net, launched a couple of weeks ago and it’s a ridiculously thorough and nice-looking project run by the likes of Dave Hone, Darren Naish, John Conway (pic above by) et al. dealing with a creature we’re likely to hear a good deal about this year. Best make sure you’ve got your pterosaur general knowledge up to speed first.

And finally, the devastatingly charming Oatmeal’s guide for How to Tell if Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You. I know I’ll be sleeping with one eye open from now on…

- bec

January 3, 2010

Your Friends Aren’t Just Going To Forget You Envenomated Them, Sinornithosaurus.

According to a new paper coming from the Chinese Academy of Sciences, a particular type of small feathered dromaeosaurid might have been armed with a venomous bite. The study, led by Enpu Gong, centers on an unusual 12mm-long anterior maxillary tooth from a Sinornithosaurus, a predatory raptor and distant bird-relative first discovered in 1999 in China’s Yixian Formation. Not only does this tooth seem oddly long and fang-like, but it has a thin, distinct groove running right through it from root to tip, a feature which Gong suggests functioned as a channel for venom to pass from the animal’s skull into the flesh of its prey. Gong goes on to describe the hollow pocket in the side of the face as a possible venom gland, and the pitted canal running between it and the base of the teeth as a venom collecting duct.

Comparing the Sinornithosaurus with other anterior-fanged animals such as vine snakes, Gong suggests that it would mainly hunt small birds and mammals, using its long fangs to “grab and hold” its prey and penetrate the layer of feathers or fur to deliver a 6mm-deep poisonous bite. Describing the nature of the venom he hypothesises, “The poison of Sinornithosaurus may have been similar in properties to rear-fanged snakes and helodermid lizards in that it did not kill the envenomated animal quickly but rather placed it into a rapid state of shock.”

But Gong’s claim is not without its critics. No archosaur has been definitively proven to have been venomous as yet, so to state that the Sinornithosaurus was requires some pretty powerful evidence, and not everyone is convinced these grooved fangs provide that. Tom Holtz, a palaeontologist specialising in carnivorous dinosaurs at the University of Maryland notes, “They give a number of different physical features that they interpret as signs of poison or poison delivery systems but which, in my opinion, are more easily interpreted in other types of biological contexts.”

Interpreting the unusual length of the “fangs” as possibly caused by the teeth slipping out of their sockets, Holtz suggests that the grooves could simply be the depressions found in most theropod teeth, only more pronounced in this particular specimen due to wear and tear. The longer-held belief regarding the function of these depressions relates the teeth to bayonet blades, the groove helping to relieve surface tension post-penetration, ensuring a less painful extraction. Further, Holtz states that many dinosaurs have a small cavity in their jawbone, but these have typically been interpreted as air sacs required for cooling, not venom glands. And that the area of the venom collecting canal is damaged in a couple of Sinornithosaurus fossil specimens really doesn’t help to strengthen Gong’s and co-author, David A. Burnham’s case. No one’s denying the possibility of venomous theropods, but more evidence is needed before their claim can be proven definitively.

Arguments aside, Sinornithosaurus, say you did actually have this venomous bite afterall. I’d imagine it’d be the kind of thing you could easily get carried away with, but much to your own peril, I’d wager. Like, you’ll be playing Battleships at Chirostenotes‘ house because your housemate and his girlfriend are fighting about Mario Kart (again, Sinornithosaurus) all like, “Oh my god, did I not tell you last time I wasn’t going to play with you if you’re going to do those shortcuts? No I don’t want to learn how to do them. Fuck,” when Chirostenotes will be like, “I’m going to make a sandwich. If you cheat when I’m gone I’ll totally know.”

“But it’s like almost midnight…”

“Just because you can’t have carbs before bedtime…”

So you’ll sneak a look a his side anyway, because he pretty much just called you fat but you can’t say anything because you’re a guy and you don’t want to look like an idiot. But instead of, you know, playing it smart and littering your fake guesses with a few decoys so it’s not completely obvious that you’re a massive cheat, you go straight for Chirostenotes’ aircraft carrier the moment he gets back, and he’ll be like, “Oh my god, you totally cheated,” his mouth full of bread and some kind of tiny lizard meat.

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah right. Hey what are you– hey! Heeey!”

“Oh. Sorry, I thought that was your sandwich.”

“Umm no, that was my leg. Jesus! Wait, you’re leaving?”

And before he can point out that if you bring a bottle of wine to someone’s house, you’re not really supposed to take the leftovers home with you, he’ll go into shock, and you’ll have a clean getaway.

But the only lesson you’ll learn from this whole experience, Sinornithosaurus, is how easy it is to get out of a shitty situation by, you know, poisoning your friends. Like, you’ll be at your girlfriend’s house and she’ll try on this hideous new dress she just bought and she’ll be like, “Does this make me look fat?” and it will, Sinornithosaurus, so you’ll be like, “Hey is that a cheesecake behind you?”

“What?” Ow!”

Your boss will ask you what the hell kind of report was that you just submitted (no kind, Sinornithosaurus) so you’ll bite him and take the rest of the day off. You won’t have any change for the bus and the bus driver will give you this look like, “Whatever, man,” when you try to hand over a fifty so you’ll bite him and then wait for the next bus. But while you might think this is all pretty awesome, remember, Sinornithosaurus, that it is only temporary. You’ll be at some party with your new girlfriend and she’ll be all pissy because you picked her up before she was done getting ready and then your ex-girlfriend will turn up unexpectedly all, “I don’t want to get into a whole thing with you here, but I don’t think you’re supposed to poison your girlfriend and then replace her two days later without so much as a phone call, but whatever.” And then your current girlfriend will get even more pissy because she didn’t even know you had an ex-girlfriend, let alone a fat one, and they’ll end up making friends just to spite you and you’ll end up bitter and alone. Plus your boss will almost definitely fire you when you attempt to turn up on Monday morning and he’s unlikely to respond too kindly to any requests for a reference or free stationery. Hardly seems worth it now does it, Sinornithosaurus?

* Fig. 1 by Emily Willoughby. Buy the print here. Figs. 2 and 3 from original study credited to David A. Burnham.

For more info: Dinosaur Tracking Blog // Not Exactly Rocket Science // Original Paper published by PNAS

- bec

December 25, 2009

Merry Christmas!

Time to get drunk and say inappropriate things to each other! Running Ponies might have the most patient readers ever, so thanks for sticking with us. The more you tell us, “Dude, I saw that story on National Geographic like six months ago…” the more punctual we’ll try to be with our content.

Oh and just as a side note, don’t believe anything Nick Howson tells you. They’re lies. All lies!

Here’s your pile of Christmas kittens:

Comic from Married To The Sea.

- bec

December 23, 2009

Lose the Coconut Shells, Veined Octopus. You’re Holding Everyone Up!

Researchers from the Museum of Victoria have stumbled across a rare case of invertebrate tool manipulation in Indonesian waters. While studying the delightful mimic octopus (Thaumoctopus mimicus), biologists Dr Julian Finn and Dr Mark Norman observed the peculiar and complex behaviour of more than twenty veined octopuses (Amphioctopus marginatus) off the coasts of Northern Sulawesi and Bali. When coconut shell halves are discarded (or rubbish or shells etc), they fall to the ocean floor to be buried by the substrate which gradually settles on top. Using jets of water expelled from their mantle, the veined octopuses would flush the mud and sand away from inside the shells and use them for shelter from lurking predators.

On four occasions the veined octopuses were observed to stack the coconut shell halves inside themselves so they could wrap their tentacles around and awkwardly “stilt-walk” across distances of up to twenty metres with them in tow. “We were blown away,” Dr Norman told National Geographic. “It was hard not to laugh underwater and flood your mask.”

When compared to their usual unencumbered jet-propelled locomotion, this “lumbering octopedal gait” is a noticeably inefficient and risky alternative, the only benefit being the future manipulation of the shells as a safety enclosure from potential predators. That the octopuses are opting to haul these shells around for later use instead of simply darting behind a rock when a threat is detected, together with the fact that the shells need to be manipulated in a certain way in order to make them work signifies that these cephalopods have the heightened cognitive ability required for basic tool use. “I think these sorts of behaviours are everywhere in nature. There’s really complex behaviours that we write off because we think we’re the clever ones.” Dr Norman told ABC News.

Now while everyone might think this is really awesome and ingenious and everything, to me it all seems a bit much. I know Under the Sea isn’t always a bed of roses, but the other sea creatures get by okay without having to cart a couple of coconut shells around with them all the time, so I don’t see why the veined octopus thinks it needs to. Like, they’d all be hanging out, the veined octopus, the weedy pygmy seahorse and the nudibranch, trying to reconstruct the events of last night’s Christmas party whilst battling through their mad hangovers like:

“Um so I hear you landed a coffee date with the GM who looks like Alec Baldwin.”

“Shit. I don’t remember that at all. Isn’t he married?”

When the nudibranch will be all, “Erm guys, my rhinophores just retracted, so you might want to keep your voices down. It’s probably nothing, and I’m hyper-coloured to the shit anyway, so I don’t care.”

And the weedy pygmy seahorse will be all, “Oh okay, yeah that’s coo…”

But the veined octopus, in typical melodramatic fashion, will be stilt-walking back and forth like a madman, cutting them off all, “OH MY GOD WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT I CAN’T FIT YOU IN HERE YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN OH MY ARGHHHHH!!”

But it turns out to be a false alarm and they’ll all laugh about it afterwards, but the veined octopus will only laugh because everyone else is laughing because he actually thinks it’s a very serious situation and they just got lucky this one time. Then the nudibranch will be like, “So who wants ice cream?” And they’ll all get ice cream but the weedy pygmy seahorse won’t be able to finish hers so she’s like, “It’s cool, I’ll just take it home and put it in the freezer for later. What..?”

Only the veined octopus will slow them down with his awkward coconut-laden stilt-walking and the weedy pygmy seahorse will get all pissy like, “Seriously, veined octopus, hurry up. Lose the fucking shells. Once these flavours melt into each other it’s ruined.”

“JUST THROW IT OUT.”

“NO. IT’S FINE. HURRY UP.”

But then the veined octopus will see the nudibranch’s rhinophores start to retract again and he’ll freak out like, “Shit, Nudibranch, your rhinosphores… OH MY GOD WE’RE ALL IN SO MUCH TROUBLE ESPECIALLY ME BECAUSE I’D MAKE A REALLY AWESOME MEAL LOOK HOW MEATY I AM COMPARED TO YOU GUYS ARGHHHHH…”

And the nudibranch will try to explain that there is no danger, he just wants to mate with the pretty lady nudibranch chilling somewhere nearby, but the veined octopus will throw back a muffled, “Better safe than sorry!!” through his coconut shells. And then he’ll make them wait and hide for another ten or fifteen minutes before he decides it’s safe to move on.

“You know, it’s probably because of me that we’re all still alive. Oh… hey, seahorse, what happened to your ice cream?”

“Fuck off.”

Current Biology paper here. // Visit Microecos for more examples of invertebrate tool use.

More on octopuses:

* Oh Hey, Cephalopod. How Much of That Did You Just Hear…?

* Intelligence Test – You’re Doing It Wrong.

- bec

December 20, 2009

Wandering Ponies #2

While my brain eases itself out of the haze of Christmas madness, here are some things that have amused me of late:

It’s no secret that I’m a massive fan of Alex Wild’s photography, so I thought I should mention it here. What makes it so special is that the galleries are organised according to taxonomy, region, behaviour and life history, making it a dream to naviagte through. Not to mention the whole thing is just saturated with Wild’s magnificent ability to capture the expression and beauty of each individual ant’s face. From the delicately pretty Oecophylla to the almost dog-like Nothomrymecia, you’ll find it hard not to fall hopelessly in love with the ants after spending some time here.

If you haven’t been following the saga that was Matt Wedel’s involvement with The Discovery Channel’s Clash of the Dinosaurs, it’s well worth a read over at his blog, SV-POW!. One of my pet hates is people/companies who are too lazy and/or stubborn to project accurate science to the public, and this is a classic example. Fortunately Matt’s complaints were heard, and it looks like the mistakes are being rectified.

File this under #alliwantforchristmas. It’s also exactly what I’m like when I’m hungover and someone offers me ginger snaps:

Next up is a site I found (admittedly 500 Internet years late) through their video of Ben “I’m a Doctor!” Goldacre. Rather Good is like a cracked-out journey through the Valley of Bad Music across a bridge made of whiskers on a jittery talking pony named Claus. Personal favourites include Buffy’s Swearing Keyboard – Make Buffy say ‘hymen’ in an arguably sexy tone! – and the dangerously addictive Psycho Techno Hypno Kitten Snake.

And finally, because my love for Jack Bauer will never die, here he is interrogating Santa:

Laters,

- bec

December 8, 2009

That’s No Way To Get A Girl, Brawny Dawson’s Bee.

Topping my list of things that stick in my craw about Australian TV right now is that we don’t get BBC’s new documentary series, Life. If we did, we’d know all about the unusual courtship behaviour of one of the largest species of bees in the world, the Australian Dawson’s bee (Amegilla dawsoni). Native to the deserts of Western Australia, the Dawson’s are a winter-active bee whose males typically emerge from their underground brooding cells ahead of the females, the larger, brawnier males staking out the emergence site for potential mates, while the minor males patrol the peripheral zone and nearby flower patches.

When a virgin female emerges from her clay burrow, generally around midday, her scent drives the larger males into a murderous frenzy, biting and stinging each other to death to get to her. Sometimes even the females can find themselves unwittingly caught up in the scuffle, the sheer intensity of the battle rendering them accidental casualties. Approximately 90% of all receptive female bees are mated with immediately upon emergence, the others likely picked up by the minor males on the periphery. This type of cospecific mass killing is an extremely rare occurrence in nature, and on the face of it seems to pose an evolutionary problem, the mating season resulting in an entire generation of males being wiped out, the larger individuals having killed each other off, while the minor ones naturally expire. But for the rest of the year a Dawson’s bee colony is an all-female brooding ground, where a brand new generation of males and virgin females are produced in time for the next mating season. Go here for some incredible footage filmed by the BBC Life crew.

Now listen, brawny Dawson’s Bee, this isn’t the dark ages. This isn’t that bit in Double Dragon where you have to kill the boss and then pummel your brother to death to get that girl with the unrealistic proportions to go home with you. Girls aren’t interested in how many dudes’ faces you can thrust your stinger into and they’re certainly not interested in how many other girls you can accidentally decapitate in the process. But they do kinda like it when you email them pictures of cats reflecting sentiments that are relevant to the minutiae of their daily lives, or sitting up like humans. Sure, they’ll still mate with you in the middle of a freshly laid-out killing field, but they’re not going to like it.Your best bet is to take a leaf out of the minor males’ book, borrow someone’s laptop, and set it up somewhere close to the mouth of some girl’s burrow* (but far enough away from the death match to protect the screen because it’s not yours). Then if the girl manages to get past the murderous throng she’ll be like, “Hey, what are you doing?”

And you’ll be like, “Erm, I don’t know. Just watching some obscure Youtube clips and stuff.”

And she’ll be all, “Oh. Cool.”

Which is more than most of your rivals will get because they’re dead. She’ll like you because you’re not homocidal, so when you promise to send her some stupid cat picture she’ll probably mate with you and won’t even try to run away while you’re doing it.

But if you insist on participating in the death match because you think you’re mad tough and everything, winning the battle and getting the girl will be the least of your problems. You’ll have set a standard you’re going to have to maintain for as long as you two are going out, whether you like it or not. Like, you’ll be out getting nectar for dinner or something some time and some arsehole will cut in front of you, and your lady Dawson’s Bee will give you this look like, “What the fuck? He can’t do that to us!” giving you a pointed nudge to the abdomen.

And you’ll be like, “Seriously? You want me to do that stuff now? Look, work’s been pretty tough lately, I have all these reports due and pretty much everyone in my division has been calling in sick and I really don’t want to have to start something with this guy. Just once I would just like to go out, get some nectar and go home without having to tear some dude’s wings off in the process, okay?”

But she’ll be like, “Ugh, whatever. Hey what’s your name?” And she’ll go home with the other toughest Dawson’s Bee sauntering around that particular plant, but not before they make you wait around for ten more minutes while she decides which flower she wants to pollinate because all of a sudden she’s developed a highly sophisticated palate that you wouldn’t understand because you have no class. So then you’ll have to fight and kill a whole bunch more Dawson’s Bees (if you make it to the next mating season. Which you won’t.) to find another girl who’ll probably make you break a beer glass on some dude’s head for giving her the eye at some bar every time you go out for drinks. Bet those stupid cat pictures don’t seem so stupid now, huh brawny Dawson’s Bee?

* That’s what she said.

Behind the scenes Life footage here // Further reading here.

- bec