I always thought mongooses (or is it mongeese?) were cool. I mean, they kill and eat snakes. What’s not to like about that? But it appears they’ve got more than one trick up their sleeves.
Mongoose-robot duo sniff out landmines on the cheap
Here’s more at NewScientist if you’ve got a sub.
Titanoboa. 43′ long. Weighs more than a ton. Could eat Bessie. Literally.
The picture below is of a python slithering over the vertebra of a titanoboa.
More here in Times Online article, USA Today, and LA Times.
To allow my inner Swedish svelteness to manifest itself I’ve been doing some hiking and biking. I do my own Elmer Fudd biathalon in which I bike for a mighty 3 miles. Hike a hill interval style that I swear rises up at 90 degrees. Then go back to the bike and bike up another hill of the same size. And so I face the normal obstacles–inertia, rocks, mosquitoes, dump truck drivers who flirt with the idea of running me over. That sort of thing. But now I’ve got one more.
You know I’ve been trying to attract some crows and ravens. No luck yet. I’ve gone to plan Q which is probably what most people would do for plan A–just put up a bird feeder with cat food in it. Except I haven’t gotten around to erecting the whole apparatus. So no crows or ravens yet. But I have been able to attract the attention of a pair of hawks.
At first I thought they were protecting their nest. A pair of doughty parents. But I’ve looked about and can’t find any nest. Furthermore, they don’t always pull their stunt in the same area. And so I’m beginning to suspect they’re toying with me.
Here’s what happens. I go on my hike and while I’m walking in place at the beginning of a new interval, looking out over the magnificent mountain vistas and contemplating important things like cheese, one of these hooligans will sneak dive bomb me from behind. At the last moment the bird will pull up making a huge WAAAHOOOF sound with its wings that sends my heart racing even faster than it already is. It’s like someone taking a huge broom and swinging it at speed three inches from the back of your head.
Yesterday, I saw them off to the right at about 100 yards, calling out, making that piercing cry. I thought—ha! they’re over there. But THEY weren’t. It was only one of them. The other guy was between me and the sun. And so I’m hiking along minding my own business and WHAAAHOOOF! I just about had a heart attack.
I’ve caught one diving at me once. It’s an amazing thing to see a bird of that size hurtling from the sky straight at your head. And I would welcome such an experience again. But they just won’t perform. No, they’ve got to blindside me.
This week I’m going to get a picture of the low-budget criminals and post it here.
The bee. We slather its delicious vomit on bread and muffins. We send colonies out to pollinate our crops. Now Colin Henderson and his University of Montana colleagues have partnered up with bees to “locate buried land mines” and do it more quickly and thorougly than any dog.
“We can survey in one day what takes more than a week with dogs,” he says, “and humans stand 300 yards away.”
Bees can find not only land mines, but also drugs and decomposing bodies. Oh, and they are smart enough to recognize a sugar daddy when they see one.
Here’s the full article. Read it. Enjoy. Things like this are part of the wonderfulness of life.
It’s been a while since I posted pure zing, but here’s one that I just ran across and love. I want Rufus in one of my stories. These kind of things make life great.
According to Remembering Randolph County, North Carolina, Rufus appeared on the Johnny Carson show. If anyone has links to that video, please post. In the meantime, get zinged, Baby.
Take a guy who does humorous journalism, but not in the sneering sort of way, and send him out to find out more about extremists (KKK, Islamicists, etc.) and conspiracy theories (he didn’t really believe in the Bildeburgers…until he was followed), and what do you get?
Well, you get British journalist Jon Ronson.
I just listened to a wonderful interview with him on Radio West.
Don’t miss it.
