They Saw Us Coming

 Everybody who's anybody believes evolution to be an undeniable fact, to question its validity today would be like admitting to treason or slavery. So all of humanity knows evolution is an absolute fact, but, are other species that inhabit the planet with us privy to this important information? "Yes", says one biologist from Melbourne, Australia. Kenn Thompson, an independent researcher Who emigrated to California thirty four years ago, claims that hundreds, possibly thousands of plant and animal species are consciously aware of the evolutionary process and use it to their advantage; and how are they using it? Humans.

"The dawn of man has been long anticipated by our flora and fauna," boasts Thompson, as he takes aim at a California Bighorn sheep with his big brown hunting rifle. "Bang. Not today, Dokey," he laughs, and props the weapon against his dirt bike. When I asked him about his theory, he almost got angry... not angry, but agitated, as if I should have figured it out myself. Anyway, here's a transcript of the interview, although I only asked one question.

Me:  How does this work?

Him: Alright, It's like this, yeah. It's like the birds and the animals, and even that big old dokey sheep over there, can feel when they're entire species is threatened. Like a bird millions of years ago notices a squat, hairy thing with a long tail and skinny grabby fingers swinging him through the jungle, and he thinks to himself, " that guy is gonna be trouble a bit down the road." The bird, or whatever animal, knows that that monkey is going to evolve into some higher human-like species that will give him and his the business in a few million, you know. And from that day on that species starts making adjustments, little tweaks that'll prepare it for the onslaught of the human race. Ok... uh, you following me, Dokey? Yeah, let's skip forward those few million, yeah? So this bird or whatever is living right in the middle of this human barrage, I mean like in the eye of it, yeah, and he's like, "OK, it's time," and all that prep work kicks in, all those hours pay off. And say these particular humans are bugging this particular type of bird or whatever, and he's throwing up farms and crops and silos or whatever, and this bird knows he can't compete against agriculture, against the human machine, so he starts building his nests and homes or whatever smack dab in the middle of all this human business, and they start getting steamrolled, yeah. I mean these birds or whatever are taking it on the chin. And these guys know exactly what's gonna happen, they know that some wandering bearded bum drifter from one of the lefty coasts is gonna hitchhike his way into a job on one of these farms, take a lunch into the woods with a notebook or sketchbook, notice that this particular bird species is getting it's ass kicked and is disappearing like hotdogs in Texas, and POW! Endangered list. And they knew it! Because this bird or whatever knew this guy would call his buddies in No Cal and spill his guts about the farms and the birds or whatever and cause this whole shit storm, yeah. They knew it, they've known it for all these years because they've been watching us and storing the data away in their DNA. They were waiting and ready. They knew that they were gonna get their lunch eventually, so instead of waiting for what was inevitable, they threw themselves into the grinder first, for the good of their species. Now this bird or whatever sees its population rising, stabilizing, yeah. Protected, see? Now they've got the protection that evolution has afforded them. Sure, there aren't nearly as many of them now, but it's better than none, yeah? Amazing. Right. Put that in your bowl and eat it, Dokey."

 That last comment wasn't directed at me, he said it as if he were addressing the entire scientific community. He took off on his dirt bike after a few more words. It's an incredible theory, and I have a feeling we haven't heard the last from Mr. Thompson. 

-Luther.

S. American Entomologists Decide to Quit Cataloguing Newly Discovered Insect Species.

 They are Glasgow mice. They can easily fuck up a scorpion.

Researches from the Chilean Institute of Entomology have given up identifying new species of insects, citing that it's much too time consuming and incredibly boring. "There are so many, and most of them look exactly the same, except for a difference in genitalia or wing structure or something. I hate it!" says Brenda Cobb, a Jr. researcher at the institute. Paulo Reyes added, "the really tiny ones kept breaking in half or getting crushed under the microscope. It's incredibly frustrating."

The Institute issued a statement earlier this week illustrating their reasons for the decision.

I've included the statement from the press conference in its entirety

      

             We regret to inform the world that the Chilean Institute of Entomology has decided to discontinue our long standing policy of capturing, identifying, and categorizing new  species of insect life. We are not alone in this decision, several of our colleagues working in the field throughout South and Central America have come to the same conclusion; that the work is never ending, and we'll most likely never stop encountering these new forms of life. Some of you may not agree, and we understand your concerns, and are fully aware of the potential benefit that some of these discoveries would hold for mankind. But we're just not up to it. There are so many existing bugs to focus on that we'll have our hands full for the remainder of our lives. We also received word that many Botanists are in the same pickle, and are considering the same action when it comes to new plant life, regardless of the inevitable effect it will have on the global pharmaceutical industry.

My feelings are mixed when it comes to this subject, but it's very understandable considering the work involved. Just naming the new species would be a massive effort, let alone finding enough glass cases, little white labels, and pins to display them.

One source close to the institute did say that the policy didn't restrict researchers from identifying new insect life, and that they're free to do so if they wish; It would be at their own expense, and no overtime or fifteen minute breaks would be included. they would be required to submit the new species name to institute officials for approval, but this would just be a formality. 

 Myrmelachista clavata

The Water Treatment

Everyone loves pure, clean, mountain spring water, except, of course, me. Untreated mountain spring water can contain contaminants such as oil, lead, zinc, dirt, lead, salmon eggs, sloughed reptile skin, badger feces and campers refuse.  I prefer my H20 directly from the Vanity Fairland Water Treatment Facility. The plant lies south of our Laboratory, about four miles from the interstate 10. The water that comes out of our tap is the most delicious I’ve ever showered in, and it tastes pretty good, too.

The facility uses a three step process that includes primary treatment, secondary treatment and tertiary treatment, I won't get into detail, it's a very scientific process that works, and that's all that matters.  Before Vanity bought out State Water and took over operations, the plant was a mess. They were still using ponds and lagoons or chemically treating the water (gross).

There were four standing ponds, two were still operating, one was continually under some form of maintenance, and the last was nearly empty, stagnant, and smelled like a defrosted homunculus. These ponds have been drained, excavated, and repurposed as an employee recreational center with a basketball court and an area to fly radio controlled flying machines. Beautiful.

I’ve become friends with plant manager Becky Williams; a homely woman in her late forties, divorced with two sons in their teens, and a tendency to ask questions to which she already knows the answers. Despite all of this, she is an excellent facilitator. On several occasions I’ve been given tours of the plant, each one at the expense of her time and money. We've discussed primary treatment, sludge control, secondary treatment, vermicom post, aeration, drying beds, methane, and many other essential steps for producing delicious water for showering, car washing, pools and drinking.

I've kept a small secret from Becky, and I feel a tad guilty, but not enough to tell her about it. She is unaware that we’re skimming water from the facility. Ronnie and I repaired and activated an old pump system and diverted a minor amount of runoff from the plant to our lab. The cost to them is quite insignificant; somewhere in the range of forty to sixty thousand dollars per quarter, depending on whether or not we need to fill our two hundred and seventy thousand gallon elevated water tank. The cost could easily quadruple if that is what’s necessary.

I’m positive Becky is receiving small payoffs from local politicians to look the other way every now and again. She hasn’t said this outright, but hinted as much. She uses this money for her eldest boy’s truck payment, as well as a variety of extras. So if our arrangement should ever be discovered, we have a fair amount of leverage to keep things as they currently stand. We also siphon our electricity from the plant, a minimal amount, I assure you; except during the Fall and Winter months…and much of spring, when an abundance of electrical requirements frequently crop up.

We understand each other, and we receive additional benefits from our arrangement; like an ample supply of food and equipment whenever we like. In exchange, she gets quality company and stimulating conversation from time to time, unless I'm not feeling very talkative, which isn't too  much of a problem since she's quite capable of talking enough for the both of us. I'm supposed to have drinks by the drying beds with her tomorrow afternoon, but the idea of listening to her go on about her pottery course leaves me exhausted.  I may send Ronnie, she hates him.

I put up with it because her water is outstanding, It's free, and she can't do a thing about it. 

-Luther

The Binocular Deception

Do you remember the last time you looked through a pair of binoculars? Neither did I. Apparently, the last time we did, we weren’t seeing what we thought we were seeing; at least if what we were trying to see was more than 50 yards away. So I bought a pair at the swap meet recently, took them up to the observation deck, picking several targets at various distances on the horizon.

My first target was an old spruce down the slope, about 15 yards away. I took off my glasses and trained the binoculars on the tree, focused, looked again with the naked eye, and back once more through the binoculars. Satisfied with what I’d seen, I went inside the pool room, got dressed, then went back outside and hiked down to the spruce. Everything was as I’d seen it from the deck. There were leaves, bark, branches; everything you’d normally associate with a tree.  After making a few notes, I headed back to the house to make dinner; we were expecting guests, so my experiment would have to wait until morning.

At 7AM.  I resumed the binocular experiment, gathering up my equipment, I went back to the deck. My next target was a parked car on the street about 45-50 yards away. I repeated what I’d done with the tree, and then went inside for a quick shower and some toast. A half hour later I was in the jeep and headed for the parked car.

Upon arrival, I immediately noticed some differences in the car now that I was only a few feet away. There was quite a noticeable difference in color; the car, from the perspective of the binoculars, was clearly dark red. In reality, it was a dark to medium blue. At first I wondered if I was remembering correctly, a quick glance at my field notes told me I was. There were other problems with the picture I thought I’d seen. I also thought the car was a four door sedan, but it was actually a two door hatchback. A few other minor differences aren’t worth mentioning here, but it was all a little unsettling.

Back at the observation deck I took a look at the car again, and then compared them to the photos I’d taken at the scene. The differences were confirmed. I jotted down the data and went inside for a light lunch.

That afternoon I chose a target 150 yards from my deck. It looked to be a group of National Guardsmen running through field maneuvers in a large clearing. I guessed they were from the military base a few miles north. There were two tanks, a Hummer, about six soldiers and a command tent. On second glance, there was also a three foot orange goblin chasing an unidentified red object; at least that’s what it looked like. I chalked it up to exhaustion. I noted everything I saw, showered, packed a snack, and hopped back into the jeep and made for the field.

My surprise was overwhelming as I pulled into the clearing, which was actually a park. There were two SUV’s parked on the grass, a little boy riding a blue and grey pedal car, two men, two women standing under a foldout awning placed over a picnic bench, and a girl, who looked to be around six, throwing a yellow Frisbee to a huge Irish setter.

I sat down, visibly shaken,  ate the cheese and apples from my backpack, and set my glasses down, scrubbing at my eyes for a moment. I considered asking the families if they’d seen a small military compliment in the park, but I already knew their answer. It was obviously the binoculars.

Throughout the next few weeks I made numerous inquiries with several binocular manufacturers, to no avail. It was one excuse after another, no one would speak with me, and I was at a dead end. I also repeated the experiment with other models I was able to get at a yard sale and an estate sale, all with equally bizarre results.

More reports as I look a little deeper

-Luther

The Physics of the Martial Arts

I've always found the misconception that the martial arts was developed for self defense quite annoying. I Will illustrate to you, on a molecular level, that the martial arts is strictly for preemptively killing and inflicting pain on an unsuspecting target.

Those capable of practicing the martial arts, and not everyone can, has a particular mutated gene known as HACNS1 (also known as CENTG2), that improves ones coordination and dexterity. The gene is responsible for the evolution of the opposable thumb and modifications in the foot and ankle that allow humans to walk upright. When this gene mutates in certain humans, it leaves them with astounding physical abilities. This mutated gene can give one the power to leap up to 9 feet in the air, catch a descending sword blow in the palms of the hands, or tunnel downward at amazing speed to hide from a potential threat.

When mutated HACNS1 is found in humans, particularly males, and is combined with the serotonin 5HT, this can lead to elevated aggression, and elevated aggression is what's needed for the martial arts assassin. So, based on these facts, it makes absolutely no sense that the martial arts would be a self defense discipline.

Consider the popular sport MMA, a sport rife with outright male hostility and aggressive behavior. these individuals who participate in this sport strictly use the martial arts during a match. It's safe to assume that these men fit the parameters described above.

The only thing stopping MMA participants from killing each other, once one fighter has been subdued, is a referee who carries a small hand- held injector that he applies to an overly aggressive fighter trying to kill his unconscious opponent. The drug soothes the fighter and delivers to his brain a sense of well being and elation, this leads to the victors typical joyous display after he realizes the fight is over and he is the conquering combatant. Arms in the air, the winner stares glassy-eyed to an adoring crowd, unaware he's been manipulated by a mood-altering agent.

note- In the youtube video, notice the referee slyly touch the winning fighter's arm and the  celebration that ensues afterward.

 For more on this subject check out the links below.

 http://www.mmafighting.com/

 http://www.all-karate.com/

 http://www.news-medical.net/health/What-is-Molecular-Biology.aspx

-Luther

Dr. R. Ranes interview

An excerpt from the upcoming interview with Dr. Ronnie Ranes in the rigorous, widely respected Journal of Personality and Social Psychology:

JPSP: I notice you have the same "I Want to Believe" poster in your office as Fox Mulder from the X-Men.  

RR: X-Files, actually. But who's counting? (laughs)

JPSP: (laughs) Now you've got me laughing. Your laugh is infectious.

RR: Not literally, I hope.

RR/JPSP: (combined laughter)

RR: I'm just going to come out and say it, I love Bigfoot!  I love the idea of Bigfoot, the movies, commercials, blogs, books and board games -- I love it all! 

JPSP: (laughs) What? You're kidding right?

RR: Not exactly. Bigfoot is a passion of mine, albeit a dangerous one in my line of work.

JSPS: Because you're an anthropologist?

RR: Yes.

JPSP: Bigfoot must go over like gangbusters in the lab. 

RR: As you can imagine I get a tremendous amount of teasing from my colleagues because, in the world of real science, Bigfoot has as much place as leprechauns. In the world of real science there are no leprechauns and there is no Bigfoot.  

JSPS: I would expect so.

RR: And even though I love Bigfoot, I am not a believer. Even in my Bigfoot lovin' world Bigfoot is nonsense. Fun nonsense but nonsense nonetheless.

JSPS: Thank goodness. I thought I was going to have to call my editor.

RR/JPSP: (combined laughter)

RR: Like most people I learned at a very early age that there is no evidence that Bigfoot exists. None. Not now, not ever. No proof today and no evidence in the fossil record. 

JSPS: No smoke, no fire.

RR: Exactly. It doesn't matter to me though, I still love the big hairy guy. 

JSPS: So I noticed. Is that a Bigfoot doll on your bookcase?

RR: It's the Bionic Bigfoot action figure from the Six Million Dollar Man. I never liked that they gave him a mustache.

JSPS: (laughs)

RR: Don't get me laughing again, please.

JSPS: Forgive me. You were talking about your love of Bigfoot.

RR: I love Batman too, but I don't spend one moment of my time trying to find the Batcave. Don't get me wrong I would love to visit the Batcave to see the Dark Knight's refrigerator-sized computers, stuffed Tyrannosaur and giant penny, but I know the Batcave isn't real because I can separate fact from fiction, and I can separate what I want to be real from what is real.

JSPS: Thank goodness for that.

RR: Now it seems like you're teasing me.

JSPS: I'm not. I just can't believe we're sitting here talking about Bigfoot.

RR: I guess my point is you can be interested in something without believing in it.

JSPS: Do you think your interest in Bigfoot hurts your reputation with the scientific community?

RR: Not at all. My colleagues can tease me all they want but at the end of the day they know I'm a scientist, not a lunatic. What science measures is quantitative. There is no quantifiable data to substantiate the existence of Bigfoot because Bigfoot is a legend. And there isn't a single solitary scientist on planet Earth who believes in Bigfoot. Not one.

JSPN: (gesturing to Bigfoot memorabilia) Not even you?

RR: (laughs) No, not even me.