Fart Fixes

Who woulda thought that farts would ever be useful for anything other than gastrointestinal relief or crude comedy? Some recent scientific findings about gaseous human emissions particularly caught my interest, since a few folks have dubbed me Old Fart—and not for nothing. My lower intestinal tract seems to be a prolific producer of hydrogen sulfide and methane—both smelly greenhouse gases. Each, when released by me (always inadvertently), seems bent on creating loud raspberry sounds, as they exit my nether region.

When I was younger and involved in societal activities, I frequently had to exercise restraint of my sphincter, lest I become a pariah. Now that I'm old and living the life of a rural hermit, I couldn't care less about my odoriferous emanations. Thankfully, I have a tolerant spouse (who is not untalented in the same arena).

Depending on one's culture, farts are regarded as normal as a hiccup, viewed as a complementary comment on the culinary skills of the host, a hilarious joke, or the offensive equivalent of a punch to the nose. One man's fart can either be another man's complement or insult.

But now from the UK comes results of a research program that demonstrated that smelling farts can cure diseases! What? I'm not kidding. Well, maybe it could be put more accurately that the droll Brits at the University of Exeter conducted experiments that demonstrated inhaling a dose of hydrogen sulfide is able to protect a cell's mitochondria. These mitochondria not only supply the cell's energy, but are also vulnerable to damage by diseases. The potential implication of their study: smelling a fart can inhibit mitochondrial damage, boosting the body's ability to resist disease. The deeper message: eat more beans and cure cancer!

But wait; let's be cautious about this so-called “wind”fall. Before we get carried away, it should be noted that the Exeter U findings did not mention disease cures, or even farts. The demure scientists only reported that inhaling hydrogen sulfide was found to be a protector of a cell's mitochondria. Once again, the popular press seized upon the results to jump to wild conclusions about the healing power of farts. But reality tells us that, as with the advent of any major scientific discovery which seems to contradict the accepted paradigm, further research is needed, in order to solidify this surprising finding as a new law or proven theory.

Hmm, further research. Maybe I can help. I think I'll contact the British fart researchers, to volunteer my deft skill at generating copious quantities of hydrogen sulfide. All they would have to pay me is my flight costs over there, a modest hotel bill, and pick up my tab at the local pub. I would love to visit Kew Gardens while there. Who knows, I may even get my 15 minutes of fetid fame and become known as the Fart Physician... though I really have gotten used to Old Fart.

Venus Transit

Taken in June 2012 by NASA, as Venus transited the sun.

Nighttime Niches—Part 2

Perching birds have evolved a neat trick that keeps them from tumbling off their roost, after they fall asleep. As a kid, I sometimes fell out of bed, but the floor was a lot closer for me than the ground is to a chickadee perched high in a tree. So evolution has given them an automatic clenching grip; a tendon in their leg that involuntarily locks onto the perch and won't let go until they awaken and straighten their leg. I guess they can't afford to have twitchy legs in the night, lest they come tumbling down.

(I jokingly envision a perching bird settling on an ice-coated twig on some winter night, locking its grip around the twig and promptly falling asleep. Soon its feet begin to melt the ice a little, the twig becomes slippery, and the bird flops over, head down, remaining asleep, with its claws still clamped to the twig. That's an unlikely scenario, but songbirds have been observed sleeping upside down—feet still locked onto the branch, even without ice.)

Once it finds a niche that seems to be safe from predators, a small bird's top priority becomes staying warm. Birds maintain a high body temperature (105^o F or more) and their tiny body loses heat quickly. Hence, their metabolism screams along at high speed—so high that they must spend many hours each day trying to fill their tiny tummies with enough food to fuel themselves. It can be a real threat for a bird to snooze through the night without eating—especially when the overnight temperatures drop precipitously.

So how do they keep from freezing? (When sudden cold snaps occur, in fact, many songbirds do perish.) First of all, evolution has given them feathers—a superb insulating coat. A bird will fluff its down feathers out beneath its outer flight feathers, and turn its head around, burying its face in its warm fuzzies. In fact, birds' ancestors—some species of dinosaurs—were the first to evolve feathers, partly to keep them warm. Feathers are a better insulator than mammal fur. Humans still strive to synthesize materials that do as well as goose down.

Second, some birds enter a state of torpor while they sleep—significantly lowering their body temperature to conserve energy. Tiny hummingbirds take this route. (Smaller birds lose body heat far faster than big birds.) But I wonder if a hummingbird could go so deep that it ignores the morning alarm clocks (other birds singing loudly), and thus miss filling its gustatory needs for the day.

Third, some birds seek out a nighttime perch that is not only safe from predators, but is much cozier than staying out in the cold: they tuck themselves into cavities or sneak into man-made shelters. Finally, the flocking technique; where many birds huddle together for safety. It helps to share body heat. But I wonder if they jostle through the night for interior sleeping positions that are warmer, as penguins do in southern polar climes.

I guess that most of my bird-watching times will remain during daylight hours. Even if I could find a way to observe them at night (get me a pair of infrared binoculars?), it'd be rather boring—sort of like the proverbial exciting sport of watching grass grow.

Nighttime Niches--Part 1

I love to watch birds. Furthermore, I feel that feeding them and providing good habitat helps them thrive and reproduce—along with providing me with many watching opportunities. We've planted a wide variety of shrubs and flowers that offer them nesting sites, as well as attract the kinds of bugs they love to eat. It is a thrill to watch mom and dad feed and encourage their newly-fledged kids to fly.

As dusk comes on each night, the last song is heard, the last visit to the feeder is made; then our songbirds fly off to sleep the night away. Quiet settles in, until the various nocturnal birds—owls and whippoorwills—take up night duty and fill the woods with their calls.

I know that diurnal birds find a place to sleep—a place that needs to be as safe from predators as possible. But where? I've never seen a cardinal or a chickadee asleep at night. I don't go around with a flashlight trying to spot them snoozing, but I've often wondered where they go to doze. When parents are brooding chicks, I'm sure they constantly cover their babies to protect them, so at least one parent passes the night on the nest; but how about the rest of the year, when babies are not a concern?

Once the nesting season is over, birds will usually abandon the nest, since it is no longer needed, but it also is coated with droppings and scattered feathers, that attract predators and parasites; so it makes sense to stay away from it. So again, I wonder, where do they camp out at night?

A little research gave me some general answers. I have yet to actually spot one of our birds sleeping the night away, safe in its niche; but now I know where some of them might be found. Songbirds find various kinds of perches for sleep. Their main objective is to avoid nighttime predators—owls, raccoons, and other nocturnal carnivores—and to preserve body heat; so they survive to sing and find bugs (or my sunflower seeds) the next day. Some will seek various kinds of cavities or nooks where a large predator will not be able to get at them. Some may sleep in a location where an approaching predator must make noise or create disturbing vibrations that alert them of danger. (Say, on a flimsy branch that supports them securely, but a perch that a larger critter will shake.) They may also cluster in large flocks—giving them safety in numbers, while a few sentries on the edges stay awake through the night.

More on bird snoozing next time...

Ringneck Snake

This is a baby ringneck snake, about 4 inches (10 cm) long. Every late summer time we find 3-4 of these little guys in the house. How they get there, we have no idea. We chase them and grab them, to deposit them outdoors. I did some internet research, to find that adult ringsnakes are nocturnal critters, and thus seldom seen. We have never in 30 years spotted one, yet every year we chase down the babies and place them outdoors. How does their momma get her babies inside the house? The mystery remains.

Click to enlarge.

Focus on the Negative

The words of the 1944 pop song by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer, “Accentuate the Positive,” came to mind recently, as I mentally hummed the tune and remembered a few lines. The song was written after one of the composers listened to a preacher giving the advice, “Accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative.” The first two verses of the song are:

        You've got to accentuate the positive
        Eliminate the negative
        And latch on to the affirmative
        Don't mess with Mister In-Between

        You've got to spread joy up to the maximum
        Bring gloom down to the minimum
        Have faith or pandemonium's
        Liable to walk upon the scene

The tune suggests that life can be happier if we put attention to those things that are useful, beneficial, and constructive. It's sort of like a pop sermon. It's a message that both ancient sages and modern psychology agree with.

Many things happen to us each day—a mixture of good, bad, and neutral. It's our choice how we respond to them: we can dwell on the negative things and allow them to darken our mood, or we can point to the positive things and let them lift us. We can curse the harmful things or be thankful for the good stuff. When we do the latter, we can “spread joy up to the maximum.” It's a sentiment that few of us would oppose.

Despite the common-sense message of “accentuate the positive,” it seems to me that humans have consistently paid greater attention to the negative. Violent and harmful actions in the world happen too often and garner inordinate attention. Our news media are biased strongly towards featuring blameworthy events, while giving scant coverage to praiseworthy things. The evening TV news is a litany of gruesome and brutal events—often appropriately described by the phrase, “If it bleeds, it leads.”

Our entertainment media—TV, films, songs—stress violence and negativity. You've got to dig way back in the newspaper to find an article that accentuates the positive, or wait patiently for a “good news” movie to come to the local cinema. (Those examples date me. Today's newspaper is found online and movies are streamed directly into your living room. But the point is still valid.)

Why is this? Why are we fascinated more by bad behavior than good? It seems to be the human condition: we tend to focus on the negative. While we talk of wanting peace, we glorify war. It's ironic, if not lamentable.

There is endless debate on whether the violent nature of our entertainment is contributing to the violent behavior of so many people. Many studies have suggested that young people are particularly influenced by the negativity, yet little is done about it. It's hard to believe that the negatively biased media and entertainment industries don't have some unhelpful influence.

It causes me to wonder if inordinate attention to bad behavior helps to make some people feel better about themselves, because they can then point to somebody else whose behavior is worse than theirs. Does this process allow one to whitewash one's moral shortcomings? Every one of us knows that our behavior could be much better than it is, so it can ease our conscience a bit, if we can point to someone else's reprehensible behavior.

It seems to be rather boring for many people to “accentuate the positive.” Maybe the phrase can cause one to hum the tune, but it seems to be nowhere as exciting as focusing on the negative, or giving attention to bad behavior. It's far easier (and fun?) to be naughty than nice.

Tis the Season