Here's a video of biologist Brad Josephs's GoPro camera being eaten by a grizzly bear in Alaska; he'd set it out in order to get footage for a BBC documentary. The grizzly went above and beyond the call of duty.
Redditor Underdog106 found a huge beehive in his attic and called for a beekeeper to help him with it. Before the keeper arrived, the hive actually fell through the attic into his bathroom below -- the previous owners had used 1/4" sheetrock for the bathroom ceiling -- and split open. The accompanying photoset documents the sad and weird business of trying to save the colony and get it packed for shipping, amid a great ooze of honey and comb spread all over the bathroom.
Jerry the bee keeper was supposed to come today at 5pm. It was a very warm day in Columbia. The bee hive was heavy and the structure detached and fell through the ceiling. It turns out the old owners of the house used 1/4 inch sheet rock for the ceiling in the bathroom. Which is absurd and ridiculous. Jerry came as soon as he could, and he drove an entire hour to get here. The hive fell 3 hours before he was supposed to come today. What are the odds? Seriously. What are the F%^$KING ODDS. But all is well.
Most of the hive fell. As you can see. But we were still able to save around 12,000 out of the estimated 30,000 bee hive.
This 2007 profile of Hubert Duprat's work with caddis fly larvae is a tiny, entomological miracle. The larvae build their cocoons with whatever material is at hand; Duprat forces them to build with gold and precious gems, making spectacular bio-organic jewelry.
Duprat, who was born in 1957, began working with caddis fly larvae in the early 1980s. An avid naturalist since childhood, he was aware of the caddis fly in its role as a favored bait for trout fishermen, but his idea for the project depicted here began, he has said, after observing prospectors panning for gold in the Ariège river in southwestern France. After collecting the larvae from their normal environments, he relocates them to his studio where he gently removes their own natural cases and then places them in aquaria that he fills with alternative materials from which they can begin to recreate their protective sheaths. He began with only gold spangles but has since also added the kinds of semi-precious and precious stones (including turquoise, opals, lapis lazuli and coral, as well as pearls, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds) seen here. The insects do not always incorporate all the available materials into their case designs, and certain larvae, Duprat notes, seem to have better facility with some materials than with others. Additionally, cases built by one insect and then discarded when it evolves into its fly state are sometimes recovered by other larvae, who may repurpose it by adding to or altering its size and form.
Here's a sneak preview of Primates, Jim Ottaviani's upcoming nonfiction graphic novel about the three most famous primatologists. It looks terrific!
Jim Ottaviani returns with an action-packed account of the three greatest primatologists of the last century: Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey, and Biruté Galdikas. These three ground-breaking researchers were all students of the great Louis Leakey, and each made profound contributions to primatology — and to our own understanding of ourselves.
Tackling Goodall, Fossey, and Galdikas in turn, and covering the highlights of their respective careers, Primates is an accessible, entertaining, and informative look at the field of primatology and at the lives of three of the most remarkable women scientists of the twentieth century. Thanks to the charming and inviting illustrations by Maris Wicks, this is a nonfiction graphic novel with broad appeal.
This is not a Photoshop job. This is the very real toothy smile of sheepshead fish. It lives in North America, writes Becky Crew at the Running Ponies blog. And, like humans, it has both incisors and molars — perfect for masticating an omnivorous diet. Apparently, they also taste good, which should be some consolation. Worse comes to worse, we can always eat them.
Rabbits are terrible at masking their joy. Really, truly awful. The eyes, the ears, the body language -- all are dead giveaways, but the real giveaway is
in the hop. When a rabbit is happy, like so pulsing with lagomorphian ecstasy that it truly can't contain itself, such emotions manifest themselves in
mid-air. First a sprint and the a jump with a twist, head going in one direction and hind legs in the other -- it's a spasm of pure, unbridled joy that
rabbit owners have, predictably labeled with the overly precious name of "binky," and in a world of veiled emotion and doublespeak, it may well be the
greatest thing about having a bunny. Top five, at least.
I pitched Boing Boing on a piece extolling the virtues of rabbit ownership a while ago, pulling together some testimonials from folks who, like myself,
have eschewed the predictable worlds of dog and cats for a long-eared friend. I went back and forth a little bit, with regards to the timing of such a
piece. Would it be a bit too on-the-nose to have it go up right around Easter, when their kind are all over the drugstores and advertising break, hawking
cream-filled eggs with a litany of chicken sounds.
Fact of the matter is, however, that there's really no better time of year for such a thing. See, in spite of the springtime celebration of bunny-kind,
there's a bit of tragedy surrounding the holiday, with shelters overflowing with unwanted rabbits purchased by parents on a whim, alongside baskets full of
plastic grass and hollowed chocolates. I was told precisely this when I adopted Sylvia [above] from a kill shelter in Harlem. That was six years ago, which
would put her around eight or nine, if the estimates of the people who found her abandoned in Marcus Garvey Park are to be believed.
The cookiecutter shark is one of those animals that kind of makes you believe nature just likes to mess with us. Instead of killing the things it eats, a cookiecutter shark just takes a bite — leaving a neat, tidy hemispherical divot. As marine biologist Yannis Papastamatiou told reporter Douglas Main, it would be more accurate to call the cookiecutter an "ice cream scoop shark". Despite only being about 20 inches long, the cookiecutter shark will try its luck on a wide variety of prey, including animals much larger than itself. It's been known to bite great white sharks, for instance. And there is one report of a cookiecutter biting a human, although that risk is probably not something you should bother losing sleep over. — Maggie
PopSci: "In order to create a workable model of a human mental disorder like depression, anxiety or schizophrenia, rats are often genetically manipulated or have their nerve system surgically altered. Sometimes they are forced to swim for long periods of time. Now, researchers at Waseda University in Tokyo have created a new method: Let a robotic rat terrorize the rats into depression."