Pine Borer

In Virginia we have a pine borer that invades dead pine trees. I split a pine log today and out popped an immature borer (first two photos, top side and underside) that I think was nearly ready to come out as an adult. At the bottom is an adult beetle from Wikipedia. Click to enlarge.

Attention Appropriation

On this blog I've written several times about what has become a major mantra of mine: Pay Attention! Our narrow human senses are able to capture only a small slice of reality—thus much of the world is completely inaccessible to us. For example, we are blind to light waves at either high (microwave) or low (infrared) frequencies. We are deaf to sounds at very low or high frequencies. Our noses are pretty poor at discerning scents. We miss a lot.

Compounding the situation, our attention is often interrupted, so that even the slice we can perceive is missed. It's amazing that we get along as well as we do, when we miss so much! I've become increasingly conscious of the fact that a balanced life is heavily dependent on our ability to pay attention to that minor portion of reality that our senses allow us to soak up, as we simultaneously attempt to filter out useless noise.

I live a lifestyle that helps me to focus my attention pretty much on what seems relevant to me. I am very fortunate. I no longer participate in mainstream society, largely because commercial interests have become so accomplished at exploiting that valuable quality we each possess: our attention. Sales people are literally gobbling up our ability to concentrate, by using omnipresent ads that persuade us to buy their wares. Everywhere we turn, we are inundated with interfering messages that appropriate our attention.

As John Prine sings in his song “Quit Hollerin' At Me:”

I don't want your big french fry
I don't want your car
I don't want to buy no soap
From no washed-up movie star
You are so much louder
Than the show I wanna hear
With your sugarless gum
Gee, but I'm dumb
Non-alcoholic beer
It's enough to make a grown man
Blow up his own TV
Quit hollerin' at me
Quit hollerin' at me.

These constant interventions are literally an invasion of our freedom to think. It is an example of transferring a personal kind of wealth that the public owns (our attention), to private interests—in the name of profit. Our attention really is similar to other valuable resources that we all hold in common, such as the air we breathe and the water we drink. Our attention is literally being stolen, much in the same manner that commercial interests dump toxic wastes in the environment or despoil natural resources for profit.

We humans have evolved to notice fast-changing aspects of our world. In the deep past it helped us avoid threats in the natural world—such as snakes and tigers. Commercial interests have cleverly learned to take advantage of this instinct by commanding our attention, using fast-paced ads and entertainment. We're drawn into their sphere of influence by the flickering and rapidly-changing images that capture our awareness. This situation has slowly crept up on civilization, to the point that many urban residents spend most of their waking hours being drawn into constant clatter and distractions.

Contemplatives throughout history have understood the necessity of paying attention to their surroundings. Their kind of lifestyle is threatened with extinction today. Monastic communities are dwindling. Modern people are losing their ability to concentrate on much of anything, except what commercial interests want us to.

The next time an ad gets in your face or a jingle assaults your ears, it might to help ponder what you might do to get some peace and quiet... and pay attention, or sing out “Quit Hollerin' at Me!”

Snake Sightings

Have you ever wondered why we humans are so spooked by the sight of a snake? Countless examples exist of how we fear and abhor serpents. Precious few people see a snake and do not feel an adrenalin rush and an urge either to whop it or to flee. You don't have to teach a kid to fear snakes—the dread comes naturally; it's deep in our DNA. For Christians and Jews, the origin of our exile from an edenic existence was caused by the scheming snake.

If you consider where we humans evolved (Africa), dangerous snakes were everywhere—cobras, vipers, and other such vermin. It's not surprising that our deep ancestors evolved fear of and ways to avoid snakes. A healthy fear, accompanied with an ability to quickly jump back served them well. They passed those jumping genes on to us.

Some recent research provides another genetic advantage that we humans have, and we apparently have snakes to thank for it: acute vision. Since snakes were such a threat to our ancestors, serpents literally helped us evolve the excellent eyesight that we have. We are endowed with forward-facing eyes, so our depth perception is superb... we can quickly tell just how far away that viper is. Our visual acuity surpasses most all other mammals. We possess first-rate color vision, so we can spot that camouflaged snake in the grass. My, what great eyes we have! The better to see you, Mr. Snake.

Snakes are not easy to detect. Their color often allows them to blend into their surroundings and they can appear to be a stick or a twining vine. It's quite possible that some early hominid species which might have otherwise evolved into something like humans, instead became extinct, because their limited visual acuity gave the advantage to those poisonous snakes.

Our extremely ancient ancestors—small, lemur-like creatures who lived among the dinosaurs—didn't need superb eyesight, because they were nocturnal critters. They didn't hang out in the daytime, because the dinosaurs ruled the day; so they survived by slinking around after dark. They also didn't bump into many snakes, who slept the night away.

As mammals came into the light—once the dinosaurs became extinct—they needed more acute vision, to avoid those creepy serpents. Some of them developed superb eyesight and passed the ability on down the line to us. So the next time you are repulsed by the sight of a snake, realize that it's an instinct you inherited from long ago, but also be thankful that your keen eyesight (which also lets you spot a gorgeous bird, on a limb off in the woods) may also be a gift from that loathsome snake in the grass.

Ahhh... Spring!

Click to enlarge.

Doggone Good Cooperation

Who'd a thunk that our ancient alliance with wolves (who we quickly bred into tame puppy dogs) would be related to how our ancient European ancestors (Cro-Magnon man) out-competed the Neanderthals? It's been known for a long time that we humans domesticated wolves tens of thousands of years ago, and also that we outlived our Neanderthals cousins, who disappeared some 40 thousand years ago. But the link between these two events was only recently identified by a researcher at Penn State University. How was this connection realized?

Neanderthals had inhabited Europe some 200,000 years before Cro-Magnon man even entered the scene. Neanderthals were accomplished hunters of large herbivores such as mammoths and elk, but they also had fierce competition from European lions, leopards, hyenas, as well as wolves. It was very challenging and dangerous to bring down a mammoth or bison by spears. Once you managed to kill one, lions and hyenas would harass you and try to steal your prized meat. So Neanderthals may have lasted a long time, but they were not all that dominant—their population stayed modest.

Then about 45 thousand years ago, modern humans entered Europe. Now the Neanderthals had yet one more competitor for the hunt. Humans, however, had an ace up their hairy sleeve: they domesticated the wolf. It was a great example of a complementary relationship—two potential competitors (humans and wolves, both of whom loved to dine on mammoth meat) joined forces to make their partnership far more effective than either one could do alone.

Those early wolf-dogs had the job of tracking and harassing big game until their prey tired, but then they didn't have to close in for the kill—which could become very dangerous when they faced a cornered and aroused adversary. Instead, humans appeared on the scene and dispatched the prey with spears from a safe distance. Having cooperated for the kill, dogs and humans then shared the treasure. Together, they could also successfully fend off other carnivores who might show up. Thus was born the human and hunting-dog team... which proved to be a deadly combination.

In the meantime, the Neanderthals—having been around far longer, but who left no evidence that they ever partnered with wolves—were at a serious disadvantage. Before long, they disappeared—followed a few millennia later by European mammoths, bison, and giant elk. The human-dog team was lethally efficient.

This is just one more example of how species that managed to evolve cooperation have fared better than those who couldn't. Yes, Darwin's insight into the power of survival of the fittest shoes how evolution competitively plays out, but it's not all about the fiercest competitor always becoming triumphant. Strategic alliance have also favored the prospering of species.

Smell My Butt

If you want to smell my butt, go ahead!

Palm Perfume

Everyone knows what dogs do, immediately after they encounter another canine in a non-aggressive manner: they sniff each other's butt. (If it's an aggressive meeting, they growl first and then sniff butts.) Many other animals also smell each other out, although most of them do not directly head for the nether region. Odor is an ancient and effective way of checking out a critter that one meets. Is this an old acquaintance? Will I make friends with this dude? He looks pretty tough, but maybe it's really a sexually receptive “she.”

These are very animal-like behaviors. We humans like to believe that we are different. We don't need to stick our schnoz into each other's private parts to case out the newcomer. We look them in the eye to judge their character. We shake their hand and see how firmly they grip ours, or how long they hold on. Besides, our sense of smell is not all that good anyway.

Well, you can toss that belief into the trash, along with many other myths that humans are special and different—as I've posted numerous times on this blog. As it turns out, recent research in Israel and Germany has shown that people unconsciously sniff their right hand, just after shaking hands with another person. It's an unintentional maneuver, and thus an instinctual one. What researchers discovered—when participants were covertly filmed—was that people frequently brought their right hand near their nose, just prior to shaking hands, and then later held their hand near their nose for even a longer time span, after a hand shake.

But were they really sniffing the palm scent left by the other person, or in an absent-minded way just bringing their hand up towards their face? Like good scientists, the researchers installed nasal catheters up the schnoz of participants and, indeed, verified that they actually sniffed their hands, rather than simply itched their nose or inspected their manicure.

What's more, the chemicals transferred by the handshake were then lab tested. What did they find? Two chemicals: squalene and hexadeconoic acid; the latter is interestingly also known as palmatic acid. Even more fascinating: these chemicals are known to be some of the same ones that dogs look for, in their social butt-smelling rituals. The circle comes round: we are just like dogs.

So the next time you greet someone with a handshake, pay attention to what your right hand does, immediately afterward. Are you responding more to the firmness of their grip or the subtle palm perfume you subsequently whiff? Are you picking up more on the steadiness of their eye contact, or the subtle scent of their hexadeconoic acid deposited on your paw?