31.12.10

Rheum-or Has It, They're Called Eye Boogers

It's New Year's Eve, and I have things to do, so I'm giving you a quick one today.


You know that crust that you get in your eyes when you wake up? Call it eye-crusties, sleep sand, sleepydust or eye boogers, you've experienced it at some point in your life, and probably still do. It's more common in children, but I know I still get it, and I hope I'm not some sort of freak in this regard (perfectly okay being a freak in many other regards though). The proper name for it is rheum, with gound being the name for it if it's coming from the eyes specifically. In case you're wondering where else you might find it, it can also form around the mouth, but more often around the nose.

Why? Because it's essentially snot. Alright, not entirely, but close enough that eye boogers is a perfectly accurate descriptor. It's made of mucous, skin cells, dust and sometimes blood cells. The reason you get it when you're asleep and not when you're awake is because your eyes produce significantly fewer tears while you're asleep, so it all just kind of builds up. When you're awake, your tears, coupled with blinking, wash it away. In case you're wondering, yes, your eyes do produce mucous, but it's highly diluted by your tears. Your mouth also produces mucous, but in that instance it's diluted by your saliva.

Sleepydust: A much more marketable name than eye boogers.


Sources:
Comic taken from Cyanide & Happiness
Wikipedia articles on rheum, mucus and mucin.

30.12.10

Fiddle-dee-dee. Fire, Fire, Fire, This Fire Talk's Spoiling All The Fun

Remember when we discussed Vulcanalia and Mt. Vesuvius? I mentioned the great fire of Rome in 64 C.E.?  And I said how it was gossip that Emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned?  Well, let's take a deeper look at that today, shall we?

The rumour, even at the time it happened, was that Nero was responsible for Rome burning, and that he did nothing to stop it.  According to people at the time, he set the fire to clear room for a new palace, and he sang parts of "The Sack Of Ilium" (a Roman epic poem, part of the Trojan cycle), dressed in stage costume, while he let the city burn.  Later on, the rumor morphed into Nero playing the fiddle while he watched the city burn.

"We don't need no water, let the motherf*@#er burn!"
Much like the awesomeness of the story of Vesuvius erupting the day after Vulcanalia, this story is ruined by a few dull and boring facts.

The first being that fiddles didn't exist in Nero's day.  Nothing that could even vaguely be called a fiddle existed for over 800years after Nero died.  As far as stringed instruments go, they had harps, lyres and something called the cithara (from which the word guitar is derived).  They all look pretty much the same to me, but then again, I think a ukulele is just a tiny (awesome) guitar, so I'm probably not the best judge here.  The point is, no fiddles.  Which isn't to say that he didn't play the lyre (or cithara or harp) while he watched Rome burn to cinders, since he did fancy himself to be quite the musician.  Maybe he even played along while he sang The Sack Of Ilium.

Except that's not true either.  According to the only historian who was alive at the time and felt that the burning of the world's largest city was worth more than passing mention, Nero wasn't in Rome at the time.  Tacitus said, "Nero at this time was at Antium, and did not return to Rome until the fire approached his house..."  Alright, so maybe he wasn't singing epic poetry while he watched his capital burn to the ground, but he wasn't exactly doing a lot to stop it personally.  So maybe there's some truth to the rumour that he burned down Rome to make room for a new palace.

Except there isn't.  Or if there is, Nero was even more messed up than anyone's given him credit for, and he's pretty much known for being tyrannical, excessive and kind of crazy.  I mean, according to the various historians of the time, he poisoned his stepbrother, tried to kill his mother by poisoning (three times, she survived all three) and then by building her a self-sinking boat (she survived the sinking) before finally just hiring assassins to stab her and try and make it look like a suicide.  Since all the historians seem to know about the assassins, I don't think they managed to make it look like a suicide.

But back to the fire... If he did burn Rome to make room for a new palace, he did it in a totally ridiculous way.  Why?  Because the new palace he built was situated 1km away from the suspected starting point of the fire.  It wasn't built yet, but the Colosseum (technically the Flavium Amphitheatre) currently stands about halfway between where the fire started (Palatine Hill) and where Nero's new palace went up (Domus Aurea).  If you're going to use arson to clear space for a new palace, wouldn't you start the fire where you want to build the new palace in case people get the fire under control quickly?  Not quite a ways away?  Check out how far apart the hill the fire started on and the location of the new palace are:
Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
So, Nero didn't start the fire (or have it set for him) to make room for a palace.  He didn't watch the city burn.  He didn't play the fiddle.  Where the hell did this whole, "Nero fiddled while Rome burned" thing get started anyway?  Well, there's the previously mentioned rumours, and as I'm sure you know, rumours can be hard to kill even when they're false.  Then there's the very real possibility that it's all based on the fact that the word fiddle is a homonym.

There's fiddle the noun and associated verb, meaning a violin-like instrument and the playing of said instrument, and then there's fiddle the unassociated verb, meaning to waste time.  There's a couple other homonyms, but they're not important to the topic at hand, so we'll ignore them for today.  So, while Nero didn't "play a violin-like instrument while Rome burned," he did "waste time while Rome burned."  Remember, he wasn't even in the city at the time and didn't come back until he got word that his own home was in danger of being incinerated (it was, despite his return).  His initial response was hardly the bold leadership one would hope for from someone who found out his city was in flames.  He basically fiddled around in his vacation home for a couple of days.  There's no way to prove that this is what was originally meant by "Nero fiddled while Rome burned," since it's hard to track down origins even for certain modern phrases, but I strongly suspect that it's a major part of it.

Likely it's a combination of the original rumours of Nero playing music while the city burned and the truth that he fiddled around instead of doing something right away (anyone else picturing George W Bush and The Pet Goat?), but we'll never know for certain.

Nero: Crazy emperor, musician, but not a city-burning crazy emperor musician.


Sources:
Nero watching Rome burn image taken from RebuildTheUS blog - what is it with US political blogs having great images of Rome burning?
Annals, Book XV by Tacitus
The Classical Journal Vol 42, No. 4, reproduced on the University of Chicago website
The Church of God Daily Bible Study
Squidoo.com
Dictionary.com entry for fiddle
Wikipedia articles on the Great Fire of Rome, Nero and Nero's mom

29.12.10

It Wasn't The Lizards That Were Terrible

Dinosaur. It's a great word that most of us don't even think about anymore, unless we're going to a museum or something. Most of us probably know that it means 'terrible lizard,' and some of you may even know that the word is Greek in origin, insofar as it's made up of two Greek words, not that it was a word made by a Greek. So who did come up with the word dinosaur? This guy:
Either a scientist or a sorcerer.
Possibly both.
His name is/was Richard Owen, more specifically Sir Richard Owen, Knight Commander of the Most Honourable Order of Bath.  Maybe he was a sorcerer, or at least a seriously hardcore LARPer...  Anyway, he was definitely a scientist, focusing on biology, comparative anatomy and palaeontology.  He was a contemporary of Charles Darwin (who was not a knight, and probably not a sorcerer), who quite famously feuded with Darwin about evolution.  What his personal views were on evolution, nobody's entirely sure.  Owen may not have been sure himself.  It's said that, later in life, he said the following things about Darwin's theory of evolution:
  • that it's wrong
  • that he'd never heard of it (he was, in fact, given a copy by Darwin himself during the first printing)
  • that he came up with the theory a decade before Darwin did
Basically, he was a dick about the whole evolution thing, particularly since he and Darwin were acquaintances from their younger days as students.  Some people say it was because Darwin's name had become famous, while his own, despite being one of the most important scientists in England (he was the superintendent of natural history at the British Museum), was pretty much unknown to anyone outside the scientific world.

Not that his name and reputation were spotless within the scientific world either.  He also had a fairly long running feud with one Gideon Algernon Mantell (what a brilliant name!), who was also a palaeontologist.  Mantell's probably best known for figuring out how the wonky skeleton of the iguanodon fit together, and this is also the source of the disagreement between Owen and himself.  Owen based a lot of his iguanodon ideas on Mantell's, while opening calling Mantell's ideas incompetent.  Also, Mantell was the first one to make major use of the suffix -saurus (he originally called iguanodon iguana-saurus), before Owen came up with the term dinosaur I should point out, and Owen pretty much just swooped in and stole the -saurus thing and threw dino- in front of it to classify the entire group.  Without ever crediting Mantell.

It almost seems as if he made a career out of dick moves, but... There is no but.  Alright, he was the one who is responsible for the Natural History Museum (of London), since he argued that to properly cover the field it needed more space than was available in the British Museum, but the dude was a total dick.  How big a dick was he?  Well, Mantell suffered from scoliosis, a deformation of the spine, and when he died (opium overdose, FYI) Owen had Mantell's spine removed and put on display in the Royal College of Surgeons.  Labeled "the severest degree of deformity."  Seriously.  It stayed there for over 100 years with that same dick label before, due to space issues, it was removed and destroyed.

Now, I'm not going to say that Owen was such a dick that he inspired the character of Ebenezer Scrooge. That would be ridiculous, since A Christmas Carol was published when Owen was only in his 40s, but... maybe Owen modeled himself after a pre-ghosts version of Scrooge...
Lost the staff made of moa bones,
but the floppy wizard cap makes up for it.
Sir Richard Owen: Knight Commander of the Most Horrible Order of Dick-Move Scientists.


Sources:
Young Richard Owen picture taken from NZBirds.com
Old Richard Owen picture taken from NNDB.com
StrangeScience.com
UCMP Berkeley
NNDB.com
Wikipedia articles on Richard Owen and Gideon Mantell

28.12.10

Are You Ready For Some Football?! ...On A Tuesday...?

Thanks to a blizzard dumping about a foot of snow onto Philadelphia on Sunday, there's an NFL game on tonight. Tonight being a Tuesday. Can any of you remember a Tuesday NFL game? Liar, you weren't even born the last time it happened.

The last time it happened was in 1946, back before anyone I know that reads this blog was even a twinkle in their parents' eyes. Back when the New York Giants had to specify that they were the New York Football Giants.  Back in the day when this was considered football pads.

Those are football pads?
It looks like they're outfitted for a game of soccer.

The game was between the New York Football Giants and the Boston Yanks (so named because the owner wanted them to play in Yankee Stadium, a minor problem for a Boston team), which was originally delayed due to incredibly heavy rains. The Giants ended up trouncing the Yanks, which seems to have been fairly typical for the Yanks, looking at their stats.

The announcement was made at the Boston Yanks Marching & Chowder Club. What exactly a Marching & Chowder Club is, I'm not really sure. Early references to it are pretty random, with one being a group of guys that got together to enjoy chowder and then walk around the building playing marching songs, while others are groups of like-minded businessmen, and others are simply charitable groups. What they did at the Boston Yanks Marching & Chowder Club, I'm not exactly sure, but since it's Boston I'm willing to bet that chowder was actually a major part of it.

So turn on the idiot box tonight and watch some football, it's only the 23rd time since the NFL was founded that there's a game on a Tuesday. Sure, it's no Winter Solstice Lunar Eclipse, but it's still a rarity worth stopping to take a look at.

If you like football, that is.


Minor edits to deal with the fact that the original image used didn't allow hotlinking.  Those bastards, protecting their intellectual property!
Sources:
Classic football players image from ilovemylife blog
Google Answers article on the etymology of Marching & Chowder Clubs
Recorded oral history of Shaw Livermore - mentions the function of the Buffalo Marching & Chowder Club
Wikipedia article on the Boston Yanks
Articles about today's game:

27.12.10

1 Down, Close On 2 More, Only A Few Dozen Thousand To Go

What do Pharaoh Ramses V of Egypt, Queen Mary II of England, Emperor Joseph I of Austria, King Luis I of Spain, Tsar Peter II of Russia, King Louis XV of France and Queen Ulrika Elenora of Sweden all have in common? Other than the obvious of being royalty, they were all killed by the only disease man has successfully eradicated from the natural world: Smallpox.

We should be glad that they managed to eradicate smallpox, because they never figured out how to cure the disease, or even manage it so that it was less lethal. And it was lethal, there were four strains, the one was so dangerous that they're not sure anyone ever survived it. All said around 30% of the people that got smallpox died, and that's taking into account a rare form which only killed about 1% of the people that caught it.

And of those that survived smallpox, over 60% had severe scarring, usually on the face, and about 30% were blinded. Scarred survivors included Queen Margaret of Scotland, Anne of Cleves, Mary I of England, Elizabeth I of England and Joseph Stalin.

But please, don't think this was a disease of the rich. During the the late 1700s it was killing 400,000 people a year in Europe alone, and from 1900 to its final deaths in 1978 it is thought to have killed up to a half billion people. Even into the 1960s it was still killing millions of people a year. To put that in perspective, the Black Death (aka bubonic plague) killed, in its entire recorded history, around two-hundred million people.  That's about half of what smallpox killed in the last 78 years that we were actively wiping it out.

Alas, in the 200+ years since Edward Jenner figured out the concept of vaccination, we've still only managed to eliminate that single disease, but we're getting close to adding two more to the list. One affects cattle (it's called rinderpest, which is German for cattle-plague) and is just waiting for a full year to go by without a suspected case to be declared officially eradicated, and they're hoping that 2010 will turn out to have been that year. The other is called the guinea worm, and it's a parasite that's species-specific to humans that vaccination can't help against. But it's almost gone too. All thanks to one of the least popular Presidents in United States history.

Jimmy freakin' Carter.

He is, for the record, not history's greatest monster despite what the Simpsons says. He's one hell of a man who's done boatloads of good for humanity. He was just a terrible president. Who at one point was attacked by a rabbit. Alright, so his legacy is a bit checkered, but the fact remains that it's largely due to him, his wife, and the Carter Center they formed, that we're almost rid of the guinea worm. Which is, arguably, history's greatest nonlethal monster.

The formal name for being infected, Dracunculiasis, means 'infected by tiny dragons' because of the extreme pain they cause. There's proof of it infecting Ancient Egyptians, there's records of it from 2c B.C.E. Greek documents, and some people think that the symbol of medicine, the rod of Asclepius (not to be mistaken for the Caduceus, which is a symbol of commerce and is only loosely connected to medicine through it's alchemical background), is a representation of the traditional method of removing guinea worms: Winding them around a stick to pull them out of the infected person. An agonizing process that can take almost a month to finish.

On the left, a symbol of alchemy.
On the right, a symbol of medicine.
Now you know more than 75% of American commercial medical associations.
The pain that the guinea worm causes is crippling, which its colloquial names, fire serpents and dragon worms, should make obvious.  The pain can last for months without treatment, which makes the increased agony of pulling it out worth it, just so that it's over more quickly.  I'd post a video, but they're incredibly disgusting and heartbreaking, since they seem to choose only cute children having them removed to film.

The good news is that since 1987 the Carter Center has been working to eliminate the guinea worm, and they've managed to do it in 16 countries. In the 1950s there were an estimated 50million people infected. By the time the Carter Center started doing its work, an estimated 3.5million people a year were becoming infected, largely due to better sanitation in the countries that it's endemic to. In 2010 there are (to date) less than 1,700 cases in only four countries: Sudan, Ghana, Ethiopia and Mali.  Under 100 of those were outside of Sudan.  Carter, who's 86 years old, intends to live to see the guinea worm totally eradicated, and it looks like he may be able to do it, since the number of incidents dropped 45% between 2009 and 2010.

The guinea worm: One of humanity's earliest parasites, hopefully just the first of many to be eradicated.


Sources:
Image of the Caduceus and the Rod of Asclepius taken from TotalPetMagazine.com
World Health Organization factsheet on smallpox
Centers for Disease Control smallpox pages
U.S. National Library of Medicine smallpox page
Mayo Clinic smallpox page
Associated Press article on the Carter Center fight against the guinea worm
Carter Center site on the guinea worm
Latest Carter Center report on the guinea worm (PDF)
Wikipedia pages on smallpox, the Black Plague, historic pandemics, Jimmy Carter and the guinea worm.

26.12.10

Bo Doesn't Know Championship Games

If you're of a certain generation, you're well acquainted with the phrase, "Bo knows..." usually followed with a sport. It was part of a Nike advertising campaign that used Bo Jackson, a man who played in both the MLB and the NFL, as the spokesperson. It showed him playing a variety of sports, with major athletes of that sport saying, "Bo knows (the sport)." The exception was hockey, where Wayne Gretzky just says, "No." It ends with Bo Jackson playing the guitar, terribly, and then it cuts to Bo Diddley (the famous rock and blues guitarist) saying, well, watch it for yourself.
It's a pretty brilliant ad, and it's timing was perfect.  The first time it aired was in a commercial break that happened during the 1989 MLB All-Star Game, right after Bo Jackson got a home run.  Basically, it was a huge win for Nike.

The thing is, despite winning a ton of awards both as a baseball player and as a football player, Bo Jackson never won a title.  Which isn't to say he wasn't one of the most versatile athletes that ever lived, but... well... Bo don't know championships.

To find another athlete as versatile we have to go far, far into the future from Bo before we find... wait, Deion Sanders?  Wasn't he playing the same time Bo was?  Bo played baseball from '86 to '94 and Sanders played from '89 to '01.  Bo played football from '87 to '90, Sanders from '90 to '05.  Huh, looks like we don't have to go too far into the future after all.

Not just that, but Sanders did better.  Or at least, his teams did.

Jackson only made one foray into the post-season of baseball, and they were defeated by the Blue Jays, keeping them out of the World Series (1993).  Sanders made it to the World Series twice, but never won.  The first time (1991) he didn't get to play in the series because it conflicted with his NFL contracts (he renegotiated those parts after that), and the second time (1992) he made it to the World Series again, but ended up losing the series in game 6 (to the Blue Jays, strangely enough).

The closest Jackson came to the Superbowl was in his final year, when the Raiders lost the AFC championship (to the Bills), whereas Sanders actually won the thing twice.  In a row.  Once with the 49s in the '94 season and once with the Cowboys in '95.

So what, they're both great athletes that are, to this day, still super-impressive.  What's the big deal?

Well, originally I wanted to make a post about how Sanders was the only person to ever play top-tier football and baseball, but that quickly came undone in the researching of it.  Plus, those "Bo Knows" ads kept coming back to haunt me.  So what's the fun fact then?

Deion Sanders is the only man alive who has earned both a World Series ring and a Superbowl ring (two of them).


That's a lot of tacky jewelry for one man.


Sources:
World Series ring image taken from StadiumPage.com
Super Bowl ring images taken from SportsPool.com
Wikipedia articles on Bo Jackson, the Nike Bo Knows ads and Deion Sanders

23.12.10

"The Knowledge"

How ominous is that?  It sounds like the name for some long forgotten mystical secret, something written in an ancient tome that Indian Jones would be racing to find before the Nazis got their hands on it.  Perhaps the name given to a basic understanding of magic, or functional alchemy.  It could be anything, but it sounds really, REALLY important.

So what is it?  It's the name of the test one needs to pass to become a driver of a London Black Cab.  You know what I mean, even if you don't.  They're the cabs you think of when you think of a London cab.
Right-o guv'na.
Don't for an instant think that "the Knowledge" (full name, the Knowledge of London Examination System) is your standard driving test.  The requirements for taking the Knowledge are the following:
  • Over 21
  • "Good character" - a perfectly clean criminal record isn't necessary, but they do a criminal record check and certain crimes will automatically disqualify you
  • "Fitness" - you cannot be epileptic, insulin dependent, have poor vision, monocular vision, a history of drug or alcohol abuse, any physical disability that would impair your driving ability or your ability to assist a disabled passenger, heart problems (heart attack or have had heart surgery), a neurological / neurosurgical disorder (blackouts, a stroke, severe head trauma).  In addition certain progressive illnesses or being on certain prescriptions will also disqualify you
  • A valid driver's license
  • You must be a British citizen or an EEC national, or have "Indefinite Stay" passport privileges
If you qualify for those, only then are you allowed to take the Knowledge.

So what is the Knowledge exactly?  It's a test of your knowledge of London.  You have to be able to navigate an area with a radius of 6miles from Charing Cross.  That's roughly 180km² of tiny, twisting roadways.  And you have to be able to do it by memory.  Without maps or GPS or the help of a dispatcher.  You have to know not only the streets, but what's on them.  A London Black Cab driver should be able to pick you up at the Chelsea Library and drop you off at the Lord Nelson restaurant without ever taking their eyes off the road.  Using the shortest possible route.  And they're tested on it.

Actual places they could be asked to find during their test: Toto's Restaurant, the Harbour Club, the Sri Lankan High Commission, Kings Fund (I don't even know what that is).  That's all the information they'd be given during the test.  And then they'd have to get there via the shortest route possible, without a map.  Can't find it?  You fail.  Take a route that the tester doesn't like?  You fail.  Most people trying to become a proper London cabbie take the Knowledge twelve times before they pass, and on average it takes three years of study before they pass.  Yeah, it all sounds tough on paper, but here's the area they have to have memorized, down to the restaurants, before they can pass:
Click to embiggen, click-poppy.
Click here for a zoom-able version
Seriously, you think your studies are hard?  Try to memorize the location of every restaurant on that map.  And keep your mental map accurate when they close and something opens where they used to be.  I think it might actually be easier to become a doctor than to pass that test.

Your average London cabbie: Way smarter than you'd ever guess.


Sources:
Black cab image taken from Copyright-free-photos.org.uk
London Taxi News blog
TaxiKnowledge.co.uk
A-ZMaps.co.uk's section for the Knowledge preparation maps
Wikipedia article on Taxicabs of the United Kingdom

20.12.10

The Face Of An Angel, The Voice Of A Slurring Drunk

Let's pretend for a second that you're a famous Norwegian  sculptor who has been asked to help rebuild one of the most famous Gothic churches in your country. You have been commissioned to design the sculpture for the Archangel Michael who will stand atop the Northwest Tower.  You have it fully designed and it's pretty incredible, but you're left with trying to decide on a face for your archangel.  Do you make one up?  Do you follow the ancient tradition of using a living person as inspiration (Michelangelo is known to have used the faces of his critics as inspiration for his paintings, often depicting them being dragged into Hell)?

Well, if you were Kristofer Leirdal, a Norwegian sculptor who was asked to help rebuild the Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, Noway, you decide to follow the classical inspiration and give it the face of someone fitting.  The Archangel Michael is often used as an image for the triumph of good over evil, so Kristofer picked someone that he saw as an embodiment of peace and goodness.  Who better to represent that than a modern poet who spoke out against war and in favour of civil rights?  In this particular instance, the Vietnam War.  The poet in question?  Bob Dylan.  Musician, poet, civil rights activist and war protester.

Peace-loving, but angrily so.

Of course, Kristofer didn't make the inspiration for his Michael known for quite a while, but he made it known earlier in the decade and it's now a well-known fact amongst the hardcore fans of Bob Dylan, as well as the hardcore fans of Norwegian cathedral sculptures.

And now by you too.


Sources:
Image of Bob Dylan circa 1969 taken from UKRockFestivals.com Isle Of Wight 1969 Bob Dylan concert page
Image of the Trondheim archangel Michael taken from Urmeant2b's Flickr photostream
Images cropped and put together by me
Svenska Dagbladet article about Trondheim - Google does a reasonable job translating it
Trondheim tourist information website, Nidaros Cathedral page - English option available
Nidaros Catherdral website - no English option available, Google does a terrible job
MonstersAndCritics.com article on Trondheim
Wikipedia page on Kristofer Leirdal
Wikipedia articles on Nidaros Cathedral and its West Front

19.12.10

No, It's Not Actually Called The Knee-Pit

You know what I'm talking about when I say the word 'knee-pit', right?  The knee equivalent to your shoulder's armpit.  The back of the knee.  You know, the knee-pit.

One of the many 'facts' that show up on the internet is that the back of the knee doesn't have a proper name.  We're supposed to believe that the people who came up with a name for the artery that runs along the inside of your thumb wouldn't come up with a name for your knee-pit (the artery is the called the princeps pollicis artery, FYI)?  Well, like so many facts on the internet, it's not true.  There is, in fact, a proper name for the knee-pit.

The proper name is the popliteal fossa.  A fossa is a pit, cavity or depression (usually used in reference to bones), while popliteal is a reference to the popliteus muscle, which is in the back of the knee.  The popliteal fossa is the entire knee-pit area.

Other proper -pit names are:
The axilla (or oxter is you're from the UK) is the proper name for the armpit.
The cubital fossa is the proper name for your elbow-pit.
The proper name for the anatomical snuff box is the radial fossa.

What's the anatomical snuff box you ask?  It's the depression that's bordered by the... ummm... that tendon that's on your hand that goes to your thumb... here, I'll just show you a picture.  The label for the anatomical snuff box is legible on my monitor, but if it's not for you, click to enlarge the image.  It's named after the habit of snuff (powdered tobacco) users placing their snuff in that depression and then snorting it from there.
Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
And now you know how to refer to your knee-pit properly (I know it comes up in conversation a great deal): The popliteal fossa.  Now you just need to figure out how to pronounce it properly.


Sources:
Anatomical snuff box image taken from ChestOfBooks.com's Applied Anatomy: The Construction Of The Human Body
Dictionary.com's entries for popliteal, fossa, popliteus, axilla and oxter.
TheFreeDictionary.com's medical dictionary entry on fossa
Wikipedia.org articles on the popliteal fossa, the axilla, the cubital fossa, the anatomical snuff box and the princeps pollicis artery

18.12.10

Watch The Skies This Tuesday!

This Tuesday will be an interesting one for a couple of reasons, which, when combined, make it for a freakin' awesome astronomical day.

Reason the first: It's going to be, depending on how you like to write your date, either 21/12 or 12/21.

Reason the second: This year, the Winter Solstice falls on 21/12.  It doesn't always, but it does this year.

Reason the third: There's a full moon on the night of the 20th, and therefore on the morning of the 21st.

Reason the fourth: There's a total lunar eclipse on the morning of the 21st.

That means that this year there will be a total lunar eclipse on the shortest day of the year, which will have a palindromic date.

It starts at 1:33am EST on Tuesday, totality begins at 2:41am EST, and the absolute darkest point will be about 3:17am EST.

I hope you all take a step outside early Tuesday morning to take a look at one of Nature's strange coincidences.  There hasn't been a Winter Solstice total lunar eclipse in 372 years, and it was at least 1600 years before that since the one before.  It's unlikely any of us will be alive the next time it happens, which will be in 2094.

By the by, to any old-school druids who happen to read this: Imagine the potency of any mistletoe harvested early Tuesday morning!  Particularly if harvested by a virgin!  Cut on the night of a full moon, on the day of the Winter Solstice!  I have no idea whether a lunar eclipse is considered a good thing or not, but if it isn't, that just means you can harvest at midnight instead!



Source:
NASA
Do I really need a source other than NASA? I think not.

17.12.10

You Quackin' At Me?

Going to try and make a short one today.

Male ducks don't quack. Thank you, and have a great day!

Buh-bye!



Alright, it's not that easy, although I wish it was. Whether they quack or not depends entirely on your definitions.

If you're a jerk, you say that there's no more a male duck than there is a male cow. A male duck is a properly called a drake while only the females are called ducks. Since there are no male ducks, they can't quack.

If you're like me, and define a quack as the sound a duck makes, then yes, they quack.

If you define it more narrowly as the stereotypical sound we associate with ducks quacking, then it becomes more complicated. In general, no, drakes don't make that quacking sound, although I'm sure there are exceptions to that generalization. They coo, they hiss, they whistle and some are said to 'yodel'. I'm not sure what a yodeling duck sounds like, and I'm not sure I want to. Even in the species where the male is said to quack, their quack is usually very different than the female's; usually it's much quieter and/or raspier, almost as if they're whispering their quack.

Here's a clip of Mallard vocalizations, and I think it's pretty clear which one is the male.

Figuring out a duck's gender: Much easier if you just shut up and listen.


Sources:
Mallard sound clip from U.S. National Park Service of Mississippi
Mallard image taken from KenyaBirds.org.uk
Majestic Waterfowl Sanctuary article on determining the sex of a duck
Wikipedia article on ducks
Wikipedia article on Pekin ducks
Snopes.com article on whether a duck's quack echoes
Answers.com response to 'Do male or female ducks quack?'
LiveDucks.com Duck FAQ
Squidoo.com article on Mallards

16.12.10

Life Insurance Companies: Scamming Since 1583

Life insurance, like the lottery, seems like a pretty big scam until it pays off.  Basically, you pay people money so that they can give money to other people if you happen to die.  Which seems like a huge waste of money, unless you end up having to pay for someone's funeral, in which case life insurance is a pretty great thing for someone to have had.  But who started the whole life insurance thing?

Well, the first recorded case of a life insurance policy comes to us courtesy of London, England in 1583.  An alderman in London named Richard Martin took out a life insurance policy on a salter named William Gibbons.  Why?  I have no idea.  I can't find any trace of a reason, although if I spent more time, maybe I could.  Anyways...

One June 18th, Martin paid an 8% premium for a twelve month policy which cost him £383, which means that if Gibbons died within the twelve month period, Martin would get around £4,800.  Which back in the 1500's was a crap-ton of money.  The average person's daily wage was 10 pennies (remember, this was back when there were denominations under the penny, such as the farthing, which was worth 1/4penny), and there were 12pennies to a shilling, and 20shillings to a pound.  That means the average person was earning about 1/24th of a £ a day.  Which means the insurance policy on Gibbons was worth over 300years worth of the average salary of the day.  I have no idea why you'd insure the life of a salt merchant for so much, but maybe Martin was a gambling man who knew something the insurance folk didn't.

Either way, Gibbons died on May 29th, 1584, well within a year.  Unless, of course, you're an insurance company that's suddenly out enough money to pay Leonidas' Spartan army for a year.  If you're that insurance company, suddenly you have to get creative.

"The policy wasn't for a year," you say, "It was for 12 months."

Big deal.  What's the difference?

"Well," you say, "A year is 365 days, nobody's arguing that.  But 12 months is 12 increments of 28days, since the shortest month is 28 days.  So a 12 month policy is only 336 days.  Mr. Gibbons died 345 days after the policy started, well after the 12 month policy ended."

Needless to say, Martin took them to court.  The man that the Queen had put in charge of insurance, Richard Chandler, agreed with Martin, as did the mayor of London.  Despite that, it took three years for the courts to finally settle the affair and all the appeals.  In 1587 the Admiralty Court (I don't know why they were involved, honestly) finally settled the affair in favour of Martin and Gibbons' dependents.

Life insurance companies: The only ones allowed to try and screw you when you're dead.



Sources:
Average salary info taken from AbsoluteShakespeare.com
Pre-decimal British coin values taken from Wikipedia page on Coins of the Pound Sterling
HistoryOrb.com entry for 1583
BrainyHistory.com page on June 18
Information-Britain.co.uk page on the first UK life insurance policy
Minor edits to shift the blame from insurance agents to where it belongs: Insurance companies

15.12.10

They Should Have Burned More Fish

Science is always getting in the way of a good story, something I've come to realize ever since I started doing these Fun Facts Of The Day (which, for those not actually associated with me on Facebook, started there in Sept 2010), and once again, I've come across an instance of science totally killing a great story.  Oh well, what used to be a fun fact is now a fun fact based on a fun fact being wrong.  First, the fun story, then the buzzkill science.

The Romans, like many polytheistic societies, had a god of fire.  He's loosely inspired by his Greek predecessor (most Roman gods are inspired by Greek gods), who was named Hephaestus.  To the Romans he was Vulcan or Mulciber.  I personally prefer the name Mulciber since it hasn't taken on any sci-fi elements over time (John Milton preferred it as well, although Star Trek had no sway over his preference), but we'll stick with Vulcan because it simplifies everything.  Vulcan was the god of fire, both harmful and helpful.  That means he was in charge of not just your fireplace, but also your forge.  Also, the wildfires that burned your crops, the flaming arrows you shot at your enemy and the volcanoes that burned down everything around them.  In case you didn't make the connection, volcanoes are named after him.

Given the huge number of things that fell under his purview, it's no surprise that he had a day of his own to celebrate his greatness and to give him sacrifices to keep him from burning everything people held dear into smoking cinders.  That day was August the 23rd, was called Vulcanalia, and at one point they'd burn people alive, but eventually that got phased out and they just burned crops and animals, usually fish.  Six emperors and nearly twenty years after Rome burned to the ground in 64C.E. (Nero played the fiddle, according to gossip, a topic for another day), Emperor Domitian built a new shrine to Vulcan because of the Great Fire of Rome.  This is how much Vulcan freaked people out, twenty years after an event people were still worried that he was angry about whatever caused him to start the fire in the first place, and were still trying to make amends.

To be fair, he burned down the largest city in the Western world.

Of course, they got a reminder about his temper in 79C.E., and that might have had something to do with Domitian's new temple, since Domitian only became emperor in 81C.E..  What was that event?  Vesuvius.  As in, Mount Vesuvius.  As in, Mount Vesuvius the volcano that literally wiped the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum off the map for fifteen centuries.  Yes, in 79C.E., despite much appeasement of Vulcan only 15years earlier, Mount Vesuvius erupted and buried two cities entirely.  And according to early scholars, Vesuvius erupted on August 24th, the day after Vulcanalia.  I mean, can you imagine being one of the guys that escaped?  Sitting around, looking at the ash field that used to be your city, wondering if it's worth digging out.  Turning to your shrewish wife and seeing a look of anger on her face before she said, "I told you we should have thrown more fish into the fire."  It's that kind of thing that would make a believer out of me.  I mean, that's some cosmic-level coincidental timing.

"YOUR FISH WERE INSUFFICIENT!"

Or would be, if it were true.  And here's where science and diligent research come in and ruin a perfectly good tragedy.

The problem is, lots of things in Pompeii were well preserved, so we know everything from what people's houses looked like to what kind of food was up for sale in the market.  They've even found graffiti (on a sign leading into town, someone had dubbed Pompeii "Sodom & Gomorrah").  The important thing here is the fruit in the market.  What was up for sale is more indicative of it being buried in October or November than in August.  Olives, a fall fruit, were up for sale.  Summer fruits were being sold in dried form.  Wine was being fermented in sealed jars, again something that would be happening in Autumn instead of Summer.  Plus, the people were dressed too warmly for the Mediterranean in August.  Also, there's some sort of meteorological evidence that I'm sure is very convincing if you care about wind patterns (which I don't).

Basically, it's pretty much proven that Pompeii was buried in late October, and not in late August.  The long-held discrepancy is attributed to errors in copying manuscripts, particularly since Pliny the Younger didn't give an actual date, he gave an abbreviated date that nobody's been able to interpret with any certainty.  Many scholars over the centuries have given various interpretations, and the one that researchers in the 1500's decided upon now seems to be the wrong one.  Which sucks, because the date they chose was way more interesting than the one that's now considered true.

Science is awesome, but sometimes it ruins a great story.


Sources:
Image of Rome burning taken from NevadaCounty.com - American political site, not about Rome, just happened to have a good image of Rome burning
Image of Vesuvius erupting taken from St. Colmcilles Senior National School's Pompeii page
Religio Roma article on Volcanus
PaganSpace.net forum post of Vulanalia
Ecclesia Ordinis Caelestis Templum Olympicus page on Vulcanalia
William Smith's A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities
Ancient Study blog entries on dating the Vesuvius eruption parts 1, 2 and 3
Wikipedia article on Vulcan
Wikipedia article on Mount Vesuvius

14.12.10

Crazy Chromatophore Camouflage

Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
You probably know about animals that camouflage themselves. There's no shortage of them, and they come in all varieties and degrees of detail. At one end of the camouflage scale you've got things like lions and other animals that are just the same general colour as their environment.  It's fairly effective, particularly if the animal isn't moving.

Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
The next step up the camouflage scale, which may or may not be as effective depending on the particular situation, are animals with some sort of pattern to help hide them, usually it works by making the exact dimensions of the animal hard to notice.  This is an extremely common form of camouflage, being used by birds (some owls, bitterns, rock doves, etc), plenty of mammals (baby deer, tigers, etc), many fish (salmon, trout, etc), lots of reptiles (frogs, rattlesnakes, etc), a whole assortment of insects (moths, beetles, etc).  This is basically the principle that military camouflage is based upon.

Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
Actually two insects in the pic.
One step further up the ladder are animals that have evolved to look like something specific, such as sticks or dried leaves.  Their skin colours and textures match something specific, and often their body shape does as well.  This is most common amongst the 'lower lifeforms' such as insects, although it does crop up elsewhere.  Many seahorses have evolved to look exactly like a specific type of plant, for instance, and there's several species of frog that have evolved to have skin the same colour and texture as a moss that's common where they live.  Even when you're looking for these creatures, they're nearly impossible to spot.  Hell, even if there's a case of them at the zoo, I still have difficulty finding them.

There's one level up from them though, and it's active camouflage.  The best known example is the chameleon.   Most active camouflage is based on chromatophores, specialized cells either in the skin or just beneath it that either contain a pigment or that can produce one.  Generally they open or close to show or hide the pigment they contain.  Open, and you see it.  Closed and you don't.  They can come in all sorts of colours, depending on the species, and as a result the animals can be all sorts of colours.  Most chameleons go from green to either brown or black, but some also have yellow, blue and red chromatophores, so they can change to those colours as well.  But the chameleon, despite having a name synonymous with blending in, is hardly the master of hiding.  The indisputable kings of camouflage are the cephalopods.

Remember those giant optic lobes that we talked about?  Part of the reason their vision is so important is so that they can properly camouflage themselves.  And they do it very, very well.  In addition to having a lot of chromatophores (up to 20million of them), they can also change the texture of their skin.  They can go from pale white and smooth to red and spiky in an instant.  Where it can take a chameleon minutes to change from green to brown, an octopus can change its appearance almost as quick as you can blink.

Below, I'm going to post a bunch of videos (all under 4minutes) which go from least dramatic changes to most.  I suggest watching them in order, because they also go from most broadly informative to most specific as well.

 
 Cuttlefish and chromatophore info

Cuttlefish mating and colour displays, check out the rippling display pattern.  Awesome.

The mimic octopus, shows an octopus imitating several other different animals.

An absolutely brilliant example of octopus camouflage.  It's so good it looks faked.

Cephalopods: So strange they look like they're CG'd.

So there we go, the end of Unofficial Cephalopod week.

What have we learned? That octopuses have several redundant systems, including their blue-blood pumping hearts and their brains, that they can crawl into some frighteningly small places and that some artists quite like that idea, and that when they decide to take over the world, we'll never even see them coming.


Sources:
All the YouTube videos above
Lion image taken from Mirror.co.uk
Bittern image taken from  Utah Conservation Data Center
Mantis and leaf insect image taken from What's That Bug.com
Wisegeek.com article on chromataphores
National Geographic article on chameleons

13.12.10

I'm Losing My Mind, Luckily I Have A Few Spares

Remember when we talked about octopuses having three hearts?  Well, it turns out that's not their only anatomical anomaly when it comes to using multiple smaller organs to do a task that we associate with a single organ.  We have one heart, they have three.  We have one brain, they have nine.  We have two arms, they have eight.  Wait a second, go back a bit.  Nine brains?  That sounds wrong.  One sounds right, two sounds possible, but nine?  That's just absurd.

Let's figure out where the nine come from.  Well, first we have the brain itself.  It's in the head and it's where all the thinking takes place.  That's brain one, but we'll get back to it in a bit.  Brains two through nine are in the octopus's arms, one for each.  They're not so much brains so much as large nerve clusters, but since they're fully in charge of moving the arms, they qualify as secondary brains.  They're powerful enough that if you chop an arm off an octopus, the arm will still be able to respond to touch in the same way it would have before being detached.  The head-brain tells the octopus what to grab (or touch, or strangle, or eat), but the arm-brains decide how to go about doing it.  Think Evil Dead II, think Idle Hands. Only, you know, with more control from the head-brain.  By quantity, only a third of an octopuses neurons are actually part of the main brain and most of those are part of the optic lobes, while of the remaining two-thirds of the neurons are mostly in the neural clusters of the arms.

Back to the central brain, where the optic lobes contain more than twice as many neurons as the rest of the central brain combined.  Not just that, the optic lobes (which are in charge of the eyes and vision, not to be mistaken for the optic glands, which control aging and sexual maturity, as discussed earlier) are separated from the rest of the brain by the optic stalks.  So, one could make the reasonable statement that the optic lobes are their own brains responsible just for vision.  Which would bring our brain count from nine to eleven.

Don't believe me?  Here's a diagram of the brain of the common octopus:
Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
That lump in the middle that looks kind of like a pumpkin?  Well, that and the bits above and below control everything from interpreting touch and taste, to memory and instinct.  Controlling the arms is done off-site, as I mentioned above.  The two things that look like kidneys?  Those are the optic lobes, and as you can see they're not exactly a part of the brain in the way that we'd normally think of it.  They're connected, but not really part of it, if you follow my meaning.  It would be like saying your hands are part of your torso.  Sure, they're connected, but are they really a part of it?  So our octopus brain count is now eleven brains.

So why haven't these eight-armed, triple-hearted, eleven-brained monstrosities taken over the world yet?  Well, despite having eleven brains, they aren't very smart.  Don't take that the wrong way, they are very smart, but it's not like they're eleven times smarter than something with just as much brain.  In fact, octopuses have surprisingly small brains for an animal of their size, which we should probably be glad about given how smart they are with their relatively tiny brains.  How tiny?  Well, depending on the diagram you're looking at, an octopus brain is either the size of their gonads or of their kidneys.  While I know it often seems like guys are thinking with their junk, imagine if our brains were the size of our balls?  We'd be gibbering, drooling messes.  Moreso than we already are.

Octopus brain math: 1 centralized brain + 2 loosely connected lobes + 8 large neural bundles = Smart enough to be dangerous.



Sources:
Image taken from Cephalove blog post on octopus brain anatomy
National Geographic article on octopus arm-brains
Tree Of Life website article on cephalopod brain terminology
Tree of Life website cephalopod glossary
University of Washington brain fact sheet
Cephalove blog post on octopus brain anatomy
Wikipedia article on the Octopus

12.12.10

Your New Fear: Choking On An Octopus

Today we're going to narrow our focus from cephalopods down to just octopuses.  Even more specifically, we're going to look at benthic octopuses.  Alright, maybe we need some quick definitions here.
Cephalopods are marine molluscs that are bilaterally symmetrical, have a prominent head and have a set (or more than one set) of arms or tentacles.
Octopuses have all the qualities of cephalopods but are further narrowed down to those with eight arms.
Benthic octopuses are octopuses that live in relatively shallow water and spend the majority of their life within the proverbial arm's reach of the ocean floor.  When you picture an octopus in your head, you're almost certainly picturing one of the benthic octopuses, since they make up the majority of the known octopus species.

Alright, now that we've got our terminology down (I'd hate to be told I'm wrong because I'm using unspecific terminology), here's your fun fact:  Benthic octopuses have no bones, and the only parts of their bodies that are harder than a flexed bicep are their beaks and their tongues (a very few are thought to have small, internal vestigial shells, but their classification as benthic octopuses, due to these shells, is debated).  This means that the octopus is barely limited by its anatomy when it comes to where it can and cannot go.

We humans are limited in where we can go by a couple different structures: Our skull, our hips and our long bones (femur, humerus, etc.).  None of them can compress or fold, so if they can't fit through an opening, neither can we.  We're also limited by our need to expand and contract our ribcage to breathe, so we can experience something called mechanical/compression asphyxiation if we can't expand our ribcage again after we've exhaled.  It's how constrictor snakes kill, and how crazy doctors die in chimneys.  What are the limits on octopus trying to squeeze through a narrow opening?  Its beak and its brain.  If both of those can fit through the opening, then so can the octopus.

Alright, so how much compression does that give them?  Check out this 275kg octopus squeezing its way through an opening the size of a U.S. quarter.


Keep that video in your mind when you go to sleep tonight, and don't forget: A U.S. quarter has a 24.26mm diameter and the average human trachea has a diameter of 24mm.  There's plenty of room in your throat for a 600lb octopus to squeeze into.


Sources:
Tree of Life web project Octopodidae page
Wikipedia page on Octopuses
TheCephalopodPage.org
Wikipedia article on U.S. coin sizes
Wikipedia article on the Human Trachea

11.12.10

Sex And Death (and I tell a bold-faced lie)

Many species of octopuses are true romantics and mate for life. It must be, as discussed earlier, that they have three hearts.

More likely, it's that they have a tendency to die shortly after mating. There's a lot of debate on the matter, and the reasons aren't fully understood, but in a large portion of octopus species, mating is usually followed soon after by death.

Also, they don't mate for life. That bit was a lie. Even though they die not terribly long after mating, most species are not monogamous and will mate with multiple partners that are deemed 'fit' before they kick the bucket.

The most logical reason for them dying shortly after mating is that they reach sexual maturity very close to the end of their natural lifespan. Basically, that they hit puberty in September and have died of old age by New Year's. And in some species, that's probably it almost literally, since some species only live for around six months. That said, some species can live for up to five years. That's still a remarkably short lifespan for such an intelligent animal, but it's still 10x better than six months.

For the females, there's another perfectly good reason why they often die shortly after mating, or more accurately after laying their eggs. Octopus moms are fiercely devoted. They're aggressive towards anything coming near their eggs and they never leave the eggs unguarded. And they don't eat while they're guarding the eggs. Like the male emperor penguin, most female octopuses will stand guard over their eggs and slowly starve. Unlike the male emperor penguin though, the octopus doesn't have a reserve of fat which they use to make it through the time until the eggs hatch. They just flat-out starve, while their body slowly consumes itself. By the time the eggs hatch, the starved female's body is so wasted away that even if she did start eating again, she would still likely die. The thing is, they usually don't start eating again after the eggs hatch, they basically give up on eating.

Now, there's a reason that covers both of those options, and it's outlined in a 1978 paper entitled Antigen-induced secretion in the optic gland of Octopus Vulgaris (the Common Octopus), written by D. Froesch. Unfortunately, I can't find a free copy of the article online, so I'll have to hope that Wikipedia's summary is accurate. Basically, the optic glands (which doesn't seem to have anything to do with vision, unless I'm misunderstanding the abstracts of the article) controls sexual development, appetite and senescence (old age). Once the optic glands have triggered the hormones for sexual maturity, it stops sending out the normal level of appetite controlling hormones, so the female stops feeling hungry. At a set time after mating, namely a time closely connected to the time it takes for the eggs to hatch, the optic glands start releasing the hormones related to dying of old age, which causes the animal to die shortly after. If the optic glands are removed after the eggs are laid, the octopus won't die of old age, but it will still eventually starve to death.

I should point out, once more just for clarity, not all octopuses die shortly after mating, but it is a species to species thing.  It's not like the male gets off any easier than the female of any given species.  If the female dies shortly after the eggs hatch, the males generally don't survive much beyond mating.  If the male survives until another breeding season, generally the females do as well (assuming they don't get eaten while still weak after emerging from hatching the eggs).

In the world of many octopuses, like in 1980's slasher movies, having sex means you're going to die.

To lighten the mood from this sex = death, I present to you a funny little French animated short, entitled Oktapodi (2009 Oscar nominee for best animated short film).



Sources:
ScienceDaily.com article on octopus mating habits
Wikipedia article on the Octopus
TONMO.com forum thread concerning octopus death after mating
JSTOR preview of D. Froesch's article
Official site for Oktapodi

10.12.10

Blue Bloods

With the exception of the crocodile icefish (a topic for another day), all the vertebrates and a few of the invertebrates on Earth rely on hemoglobin* to transport oxygen from the lungs to the tissues that will use it.  That means that everything from fish to lizards to birds to mammals all have red blood blood when it's oxygen rich, and a blueish-purpley blood when it's oxygen depleted.  Basically, red going out from the lungs, blue coming back into it.  If you're as Caucasian and untanned as I am, you can prove that just by looking at your wrists.

Alright, the vertebrates make up about 5% of the known species, so what about the rest?  Well, most insects (which make up roughly 90% of all animals) don't really have a blood circulatory system as we'd think of it, so we'll just leave them out of this.  That pretty much leaves us with the non-insect branches of the arthropods and the molluscs.  And what did we learn were molluscs a couple of days ago?  That's right!  The sensational cephalopods!  Alright, so what do they all use for their blood if not hemoglobin?  Hemocyanin.

Hemocyanin, which sounds too much like cyanide to make me feel entirely comfortable thinking about something requiring it to live, basically uses copper atoms in place of the iron atoms in hemoglobin.  It's also a much larger molecule than hemoglobin, which means that it doesn't need to attach itself to a blood cell to keep itself from clogging the body's fine filters like the kidneys.  That means that even though cephalopods (alright, and a whole lot of other critters, but this is an unofficial Cephalopod Week) have an equivalent to hemoglobin, they don't have an equivalent to red blood cells.

Now hemocyanin, since it's a copper compound instead of an iron compound, doesn't go from blue to red when it's attached to an oxygen molecule like hemoglobin does, it goes from colourless to blue.  I couldn't find any pictures of octopus blood (and believe me, I tried), but I managed to find a whole bunch of horseshoe crab blood, which is also coloured by hemocyanin instead of hemoglobin.  Check it out:

Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy

Pretty cool, huh?

Cephalopods: The blue bloods of the seas.

Damnit, I know there are only 800 or so species of cephalopods, and over 85,000 species of other molluscs that also rely on hemocyanin, plus an unknown number of arthropods, which means they aren't really the blue bloods of the seas, but this is an unofficial Cephalopod week, so let them (and me) have that, okay?

*For the record, I prefer the British spelling, haemoglobin, but I hate that it sets off my spell-check, so I'm using the American spelling.



Sources:
PressOfAtlanticCity.com article - great picture of blue horseshoe crab blood that I couldn't hotlink to
Image taken from PSB.org article on horseshoe crab blood
HowStuffWorks.com article on the octopus body plan
Xenology.info page on non-hemoglobin-based circulatory systems - with regards to alien physiology, but with solid chemistry info nevertheless
Article from DavidDarling.info - "The Internet Encyclopedia Of Science", basically the same article as the xenology one above, but with better presentation and slightly less science
Fascinating video on horseshoe crab blood collection from Journal of Visualized Experiments - only loosely related, but interesting nonetheless
Wikipedia article on Hemocyanin
Wikipedia article on Octopuses
Wikipedia article on Red blood cells
Wikipedia article on Hemoglobin