This year our Ten Things series, on the tenth of each month, is concentrating on things which are wackier than usual, if not by much. From odd road names to Christmas carols by way of saints and scientists. So here goes with September …
Ten Relatively Unknown Scientists
Robert Hooke (1653-1703)
John Flamstead (1646-1719)
Paul Dirac (1902-84)
Mary Anning (1799-1847)
Eric Laithwaite (1921-97)
Alice Hamilton (1869-1970) (right)
Paul Flory (1910-85)
Paracelcus (1493-1541)
Emmy Noether (1882-1935)
Grace Hopper (1906-92)
If you’re interested to know more, all have Wikipedia entries.
It’s been quiet round here recently. Nevertheless we’ve been collecting our usual list of links to items you missed the first time. And this month we have an edition packed with some good (long) reads …
Science, Technology, Natural World
Astronomer Martin Rees looks at how we’ve discovered that the universe is much bigger and weirder than anyone thought … [£££] [LONG READ]
… or as our favourite theoretical physicist, Katie Mack, points out: space is big and our planet a tiny porthole, looking over a cosmic sea.
Now to more mundane matters … here are two articles, one from the Conversation the other from the Guardian, on how vets identified Coronavirus in a cat.
A few weeks back, when the weather was nicely tropical, Diamond Geezer took a look at the technical definition of a heatwave – and it isn’t as simple as you might think.
Really tiny, but really cute: Leaf Sheep,
apparently the only animal that can photosynthesise.
The Somali Sengi (a species of elephant shrew) is a really cool critter: it mates for life, can race around at 30km/h and sucks up ants with its trunk-like nose – and having been thought extinct ecologists have recently rediscovered it in Djibouti.
Health, Medicine
A view from inside the NHS on what it was like trying to cope with a sudden deluge of Covid-19 patients. [LONG READ]
Covid-19 is here for the long haul: here’s how scientists predict the pandemic might play out over the next months and years.
Pace Richard Dawkins, it is suggested that humans aren’t inherently selfish, but hardwired to work together. (Until the ship gets overcrowded that is.)
The origins of modern humans get more complex with every new twist of DNA analysed. I have to ask whether we’re actually sure that Homo sapiens, Neanderthals, Denisovans, H. erectus (and maybe others) aren’t actually just one species with some very well-defined sub-species. [LONG READ]
It turns out that our medieval friends had a thing about sex with demons. [LONG READ]
And now to almost modern demons of a different kind. Here’s an old article about a potentially huge explosion lurking in a wreck off the Kent coast. [LONG READ]
There’s a Zoroastrian centre not far from here, so I’ve always wondered what they’re about. Here’s a look into the very closed world of a strange religion. [LONG READ]
Postcrossing has been around for a while. It’s an interesting idea involving swapping postcards with unknown people around the world as a way of building global friendship.
Our monthly collection of recently encountered quotes …
We as humans are built to ignore big problems.
[Katie Mack at https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/space-the-nation-katie-mack-the-mansplainer-slayer-on-getting-science-right]
It’s very hard to just tell someone, “This is a thing” and have that change their mind … just presenting facts, just throwing facts in people’s faces does not change their minds.
[Katie Mack at https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/space-the-nation-katie-mack-the-mansplainer-slayer-on-getting-science-right]
Almost all of ordinary matter (99.9999999% of it) is empty space. If you took out all of the space in our atoms, the entire human race (all 7 billion of us) would fit into the volume of a sugar cube.
“My dog does magic tricks.”
“Really? What breed is he?”
“He’s a labracadabrador.”
[Stolen from Twitter]
All political lives, unless they are cut off in midstream at a happy juncture, end in failure, because that is the nature of politics and of human affairs.
[Enoch Powell]
Vice, if you gild it lavishly enough, is always attractive … thoughts of the aftermath rarely intrude themselves on such occasions.
[Sidney Felstead]
“Si quis sederet super pellem leonis recedent ab illo emorroides”
If someone sits on a lion’s skin their piles will go away.
[Ortus sanitatis, 1499. “Description of the properties of lions”. Quoted by Katie Birkwood at https://twitter.com/Girlinthe/status/1290593981424902144]
We’ve become incredibly entomologically dumb. We just don’t distinguish the dangerous from the harmless from the helpful. The average kid can probably distinguish more makes of cars or superheroes than insects.
[Jeffrey Lockwood, University of Wyoming] In Maine, selling weed is illegal but it’s legal to have and use. So there are these guys who run a “psychic” location service and for a fee they will find your lost weed and deliver it to you.
[Twitter]
The best food ever is nonexistent or you will never find it. My reason for this, is that people create new food all the time. Also you have to try every thing that ever existed since the beginning of time. And the reason is that you would have [to] eat things, that you can’t eat, like dark matter. Even if you figured out how to fly around, eating every single quark and lepton you [would] eventually explode because you would contain the whole universe. So, in conclusion don’t try to find the best food in the world because you will explode.
[Anonymous 10-year old asked to write about the best food in the world; quoted on Twitter]
The cult of female modesty is as much part of ““patriarchy” as anything else – it gives men power to shame and demean women … As ever, that modesty cult claims to be in a woman’s own interest.
[Dr Victoria Bateman]
Orange and gold carp.
Living beneath the ice.
Uncaring of the world above,
sustained by the water below.
[Deng Ming-Dao]
There is no greater enemy to dictators than people actually being allowed to vote.
This year our Ten Things series, on the tenth of each month, is concentrating on things which are wackier than usual, if not by much. From odd road names to Christmas carols by way of saints and scientists. So here goes with August amusement …
Here we are at day 150 of Covid isolation from the world. FFS that’s five months of house arrest. And as a result what has changed? Absolutely bugger all.
We still have a government which is interested only in lining its own nests, and those of its mates, and who can’t – more likely won’t – see what’s important in the big picture (see my post of a few days ago). So they start loosening things up, to get the economy moving. They want eateries to reopen, and bribe us to use them. Then moan because we’re obese! “Free burgers and free bullying for all.”
No wonder the number of infections goes up and there’s a return to restrictions. Why should we be surprised? Well we shouldn’t, as this is essentially only a re-release of “Brexit Fiasco – the game without rules”. So, yes, let’s not forget we yet have the fallout from Brexit to negotiate over the next 18+ months. Not so much a car crash as a railroad train/road train crash.
At a more personal level things are much the same as well. We are still muddling along; still very much in lockdown. Although we are told we can do things, neither Noreen nor I are at all comfortable with the idea of going out and about, even with masks. Which means procrastination and bone-idleness continue to be the order of the day.
So, a few things (good and not so good) that have happened since my last report on day 125.
Good
Not So Good
I’ve made some small family history discoveries. Amongst them, in 1901 one of my 2nd-great-uncles was Butler to the Dowager Countess of Londonderry.
Being able to sit around in the nude: who wants to wear clothes in this heat?
Our friend Tom is back and getting the garden straightened out.
Home-grown tomatoes, marrow and chillies.
Continuing good food. As Noreen says, our g-g-grandfathers would think we’re living like the gentry. And why not? We deserve some consolation!
Having Tom around, lovely though it is, is disruptive; neither of us gets anything much done while he’s here.
Continuing episodes of “Cat and Mouse: the Soap Opera”. S4E9: Live Mouse in the Study. S5E17: Dead Rat under Desk.
I’ve been sleeping incredibly badly.
I’ve an annoying boil under my left jaw. At least that’s what the doctor thinks it is.
As a consequence of these last two, the depression doesn’t improve and there’s no “get up and go” to be found.
Yesterday’s haul: the first marrow and another batch of tomatoes
So I wonder what happens next? Will I be able to report some welcome improvements in my next report on (maybe) day 200? I must admit doing so would be a great relief! But I won’t put the Champagne on ice just yet.
No-one gets it! Not just the government, but YOU, out there 🠞 🠟 🠜 🠝 🠞
In the overall scheme of things, BUSINESS DOESN’T MATTER!
Yes, that’s right: protecting business, in these troubled times, is NOT the first, or even a high, priority.
What has to be done is to protect, and look after, the people. Get the people through this pandemic. And do that at the expense of almost anything else!
Yes, that’s a draconian – and no doubt unpopular – view. And I make no pretence it will be easy or comfortable.
But look at it this way … Businesses are expendable. It doesn’t matter if they fail. Businesses can be rebuilt, started afresh, etc. but only if there are people there to do it. There is no point in having a business if there is no-one there to run it or buy from it. And if the people are there then at least a core of businesses will survive. And when all this is over those surviving businesses can grow to fill the new demand, along with new start-ups and resurrections.
Business is secondary to people. No people = No business.
Yes, OK, there are a core of businesses which are essential: specifically utilities (water, electricity, gas, sewerage, rubbish collection), food supply (farm to shop), healthcare (drugs, doctors, hospitals), and transport (haulage, some public transport, fuel).
Beyond that it isn’t important if pubs, restaurants, car manufacture, garden centres, tailors, fashion houses, gunsmiths, jewellers, publishing, and so on, cease. It doesn’t matter if I can’t buy Epsom salt, a mousetrap, or a new camera. All these can, and will, be rebuilt to the extent that the post-pandemic world, and it’s population, needs them and there are people to work them. If there aren’t the people (either as employees or customers) then the business isn’t viable.
Even education (all of it from kindergarten to university) isn’t essential. Yes, we need educated people, because educated people feed business. But missing a year or two won’t be a tragedy, as many who’ve been long-term sick demonstrate. You can catch up on education later. Although again it may not be easy or pretty.
People’s ability to survive has to be supported and protected, first and foremost.
So wake up governments. People first. Then education. And business later.
As any of my readers who follow me on Facebook know, a few days ago I had a beautiful Jersey Tiger Moth (Euplagia quadripunctaria) in the garden; in fact feeding on our buddleia. As my photograph shows, these are very distinctive creatures.
I love seeing them, not just for their beauty but also because they are a success story of something extending its range.
As you might guess from their name they originate (as far as the British are concerned) in the Channel Islands, although their range extends across much of Europe and western Asia.
Until relatively recently the moth was absent from the British Isles. However they are now found along the southern coast of England: first in Devon, then Cornwall. While some moths are likely migrants from the Continent (or Channel Islands), they clearly are now breeding here as they have extended their range to much of southern England and London.
The first one I saw was in Lyme Regis, on the border between Devon and Dorset. It was sitting, bold as brass, on a bedding plant in a park. This was in 2006. Since then I’ve seen an odd specimen most years here in west London, and this year I have a couple of other reports of the moth in the local area. On Twitter there are lots of recent reports of sightings from around southern England; I’ve even seen a mention by one enthusiast with a moth trap who had over 3 dozen trapped one night recently. (Of course I can’t now find that post!) They do seem to be becoming more common and spreading slowly northwards – too much for them all to be migrants.
For the UK they’re a fairly large moth, with a wingspan of 50-65mm. Like most moths they fly largely at night, although they do fly during the day. I spotted the one I photographed because of the movement of its flight. They do also seem to have a habit of resting in the open in rather conspicuous places on leaves, tree trunks etc.; presumably they rely on their warning colouring for protection, if not camouflage.
As well as the bold black and white forewings, their hind wings are a bright reddish-orange. There is though a colour morph with yellow hind wings; and a melanistic form with all black forewings.
Now instinct says that such a boldly coloured moth would be a garden pest, but actually they aren’t. The larvae feed on a wide variety of plants such a nettles, raspberries (OK not so good that one), dandelion, dead-nettle, ground ivy, groundsel, plantain, and more. The larvae are mostly black and (often gingery) brown and hairy. They overwinter as small larvae. The moths are generally on the wing from mid-July to early-September.
What I find interesting is that every image of a Jersey Tiger I’ve ever seen appears to be female. How do you sex a moth? Well with most species the males have frilly antennae to pick up the female’s pheromones – because shagging, y’know! But there are exceptions to the rule and wonder if the Jersey Tiger is one of them.
You would think that something this highly coloured and day-flying would be a butterfly. But no, there are day-flying moths. And there’s an easy way to tell a moth from a butterfly: butterflies have small knobs on the end of their antennae; moths don’t. Again I’ve no doubt there are exceptions, but I don’t off-hand know of one.
Don’t confuse the Jersey Tiger with the Garden Tiger Moth (right) which has more broken, less linear, patterning to the forewings and a brown furry head. The caterpillar of the Garden Tiger is what we always knew as kids as a Woolly Bear. Garden Tigers do seem to have become much less common over the last few decades. There’s also the Scarlet Tiger Moth in UK, but that is even more different, is around earlier in the year, and is quite locally distributed.
As always there is a lot more information on the internet and Wikipedia is as good a place as any to start.
Eccentric looks at life through the thoughts of a retired working thinker