Chandra Clarke

Award-winning entrepreneur. Author. Professional Optimist.

Dinosaurs: Birds of a Feather?

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I love science and technology, I really do. Modern science has given me maple frosted Wheaties for breakfast. Thanks to the Internet and email, I can send memes to my friends on a daily basis. State-of-the-art manufacturing processes have produced green, plant-like objects that I don’t have to water and therefore can’t kill through neglect.

There are days however, when I can understand why people get frustrated with science. Science is a process, wherein our understanding of something changes over time as new evidence is discovered, analyzed, and interpreted. Because scientists are humans, and prone to the same failings as the rest of us, it can be a messy, and sometimes even political and emotional process. And because it can take a while to reach a consensus on a topic, it doesn’t provide the absolute certainty a lot of people crave.

For example, consider a slew of apparently feathered dinosaur fossils discovered in the 1990s. The paleontologists who found them said the fossils provided evidence that modern birds can probably trace their origins to theropods, a ‘clade’ of dinosaurs characterized by being three-toed, among other things.

This does not mean that Tweety Bird is just a small Tyrannosaurus Rex (although that idea would go a long way in explaining a certain Alfred Hitchcock film), but it does mean that Tweety may be able to count Rex as a distant ancestor. Look out, puddy tat!

It seems pretty clear there is some relationship between modern birds and dinos (have a look at the ostrich or cassowary), but…  both feathers and fur are still flying about this theory, with dissenters pointing at certain microraptor fossils and suggesting that, actually, dinosaurs descended from birds.

Some of the arguments about this have been personal and downright bitter. Fortunately, since these are scientists, the arguments have not degenerated into something like this:

SCI-GUY 1: Do not.

SCI-GUY 2: Do too!

Rather, they are far more mature and of course, scientific:

SCI-GAL 1: Do not to infinity!

SCI-GAL 2: Do too to infinity plus one with glucose on it!

Why is the debate so hot? Scientists can be just as stubborn as the next guy when it comes to defending their own theories, especially when research grants and the possibility of tenure are involved.

Who should Joe Public believe? The jury is still out.

It doesn’t also help that these days, anyone with a computer and a connection to YouTube considers themselves an expert. This just adds to the uncertainty, especially for people not well-versed in the subject at hand.

Wannabe Egyptologists insist, for example, that the pyramids are evidence that … aliens visited us once. The thinking is that we humans couldn’t possibly have built those ourselves back then. The truth is far more prosaic:

MAHOMET: I have an idea! Let’s spend the next thirty years of our life under the blazing sun, carving thousand pound blocks out of solid rock, dragging them across the desert and piling them several stories high — all for the glory of Pharaoh Khufu!

YASSIR: But Pharaoh Khufu was a dork! And he’s dead!

MAHOMET: This is the desert! What else have you got to do? Also, the dude over there who, um, gave me this idea has a whip and a bad temper.

YASSIR: Good point. I’ll go get my chisel.

Stonehenge is another mystery that seems to generate a lot of strange theories. I can see why. Current thinking suggests that ancient Celts dragged dozens of huge rocks over hilly countryside, and stood them on end . . . to create what are essentially giant stone calendars. Researchers base this theory on the fact that the stones seem to align with star patterns, and the fact that light hits the stones ‘just so’ on solstice days, which were important in ancient times. It’s certainly the simplest explanation, and excavations near the stones support this theory.

This brings to mind several questions, however: A) why didn’t the Celts just use pocket calendars like everyone else? B) How many times did they have to realign the huge rocks when they realized they got it wrong? C) Depending on the answer to B, what is the ancient Celtic equivalent to doh! and @#$%^!?

Calendar theory doesn’t completely explain why there are hundreds of similar structures around the world, so amateur historians have a field day with competing theories. Mine are: Either our ancestors were really stupid and didn’t realize that scratching notches on the cave wall would have been easier, or they were really bored. If the latter, perhaps television isn’t such a bad invention after all.

And remember crop circles? They were those nifty looking patterns of bent-over plants in English wheat fields. Theories abounded until two older gentleman claimed they’d made the patterns with a board and a bit of rope. The scientific community sniffed “told you so” and the topic dropped out of mainstream consideration. But since the idea that two men managed to go snucking all over England, in the dark, squashing valuable crops without getting caught, seems just as unlikely as other proposals, “alternatives” still linger.

And boy, some of those other theories were pretty dippy. Crop circles were attributed to everything from UFOs, to mass hedgehog mating dances (although, considering the behaviour of some guys I’ve seen in bars, that might not be far off).

I’m not sure why mundane theories about the pyramids, Stonehenge, and crop circles meet with such resistance. After all, we have modern evidence of people building all sorts of crazy, elaborate structures out of … toilet paper tubes, elastic bands, and Popsicle sticks. Perhaps it’s because these theories aren’t exciting. Perhaps we should have called the two blokes with the board ‘cereal killers’ to make that explanation more titillating?

In any case, my advice regarding science is this: Be patient with the scientific process. Don’t expect absolute certainty, and don’t be surprised if there are a few professionals who don’t agree with the current consensus — there will always be disagreements.

Definitely ‘do your research,’ but please, please use legitimate science publications that have been around for a long time, and not some random blog like Bob’s House of Suspect Supplements. And definitely do not use YouTube. Heck, my teenagers can produce slick YouTube videos; anyone can.

Continue to trust the process. If we’re lucky, scientific insights will help us prevent another pandemic, reverse climate change, and eventually lead to the next high point in human civilization: the creation of maple frosted Wheaties with marshmallows.

 

Image Credit: Gamma 124 on Wikimedia Commons

Wool Gathering in the Modern Era

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Forget computers. We’ve been there, done that, and downloaded the t-shirt. Ignore energy-efficient non-polluting cars. We’ve been promised those since Henry Ford unleashed the Model-T.

The future, my friends, is in sheep.

No, this is not an attempt to pull the wool over your eyes, or to get you to invest in 4-H stock (or even livestock). I’m talking about how biotechnology is going to revolutionize our lives in ways we haven’t even  begun to think of.

By now everyone will have heard that scientists have successfully cloned — that is, made a duplicate or twin — of a sheep named Dolly. I’m not sure exactly how this works, except to say it involves lots of sheep and complicated mathematics, and that unsuccessful attempts resulted in Shepherd’s Pi. (Which, I’m told, goes well with Mendel’s peas.)

The latest in paddock progress, however, is probably less well-known: scientists created self-shearing sheep.

According to a Reuter’s report, a product that used bio-technology to transform the centuries-old practice of sheep-shearing was brought to market a few years back. Called Bioclip, the process involved injecting sheep with a naturally occurring protein which causes their wool to simply drop out about a week later.

Since I’m a hard-working investigative reporter who strives to bring you accurate news and views, I hastened to the Bioclip test site for an interview. This was difficult to obtain, as the suddenly bare test subjects had taken to hiding behind rocks, well, sheepishly. I did, however, manage to record this conversation (translations courtesy of the Phi Beta Lambda society):

SHEEP1: Baaa! Baa! [Argh! You are buck naked!]

SHEEP2: Baa. Baa-baa! [Ewe are confused. I am a ram, not a buck.]

SHEEP3: Baa! Baa! [We have all been fleeced!]

SHEEP1: Baa-aah. [Hey baby, nice butt chops you got there.]

SHEEP2: BAA! Whack! [You keep your kabobs to yourself, bub.]

Now before all you bleating-heart animal activists start a Save the Sheep campaign, you should know this could actually be a good thing for the critters. Since old-time shearers work at a speed of about four SPM (sheep per minute), shearing means picking up a sheep, spinning it 360 degrees and running the clippers over it. Without the imminent threat of a major case of razor burn, stress-free sheep will be able to relax and focus on grazing — making sheep farms resemble nudist salad bars.

[insert elevator music to accompany that mental image]

This is not to say that self-shearing sheep would be problem-free. With our woolly friends dropping their britches at random, we may see increased cases of mutton dressing up to look like lamb. Wolf populations could skyrocket because of the sudden availability of sheep’s clothing. Poor Wile E. Coyote, already confounded by Sam the Sheepdog, will waste countless hours pouncing on what amount to underdeveloped wool blankets.

Speaking of sheepdogs, scientists have been unable to determine if they would be affected by exposure to Bioclip. It could mean that over a career, a sheepdog might have to resort to a popular baldness medicine (we’ll call it Woofgaine) to deal with doggy pattern baldness, otherwise known as mange.

If that’s the case, it might balance out the sudden drop in cosmetics manufacturing. Many products, as any savvy-shopper will tell you, have lanolin added to them. Since lanolin is basically, well, sheep sweat, and since sheep will be naturally air-conditioned from now on, we’ll have to find a substitute product. Either that or we’ll have to develop exercise videos like Rippling Racks, or Barns of Steel to get them sweatin’ to the oldies.

Sheep shot? Sorry.

Finally, self-shearing sheep will mean the sudden unemployment of hundreds of sheep shearers. As Australia is the world’s largest producer of raw wool, this means unemployment offices will be inundated with people saying things like “G’day mate! ‘Ow’s it goin’ then, oirright?” We could retrain these folks in say, cutlery and flatware sales, because Australians seem to have a natural affinity for this type of work. (“That’s not a knife. This is a knife.”) Alternatively, we could train them to shear other wool-bearing creatures, like camels, and goats. Not rabbits, though, as that would be too much of a hare-raising experience.

And with that, I’ll put this piece out to pasture.

Image by alkemade from Pixabay

Sailing the ocean brew…

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Okay, the next time you are on an ocean cruise, don’t bother tossing your pop can overboard.  It will likely just bounce back.

This is because we apparently have entire flotillas of junk and garbage sloshing about in the seven seas.  Not just the usual sunken ship and message-in-a-bottle stuff either — I’m talking about entire cargo holds full of muck.

For example, consider an incident on February 13, 1997 where a “rogue wave” (so called, I guess, because waves have never been known to heave ships around) caught a freighter named the Tokio Express off guard.  The ship rolled 60 degrees one way and 40 degrees the other.  Freighter captains must not believe in giant seat belts, because this chucked about 62 cargo containers overboard.  One of them contained some 4,756,940 Lego pieces.

Yep, you heard me.  More than 4 million bits went into the drink from just one of those containers.

I don’t know about you, but I have had the misfortune of stepping on a piece of Lego in bare feet.  I remember the incident clearly, mainly because I can still see the @#$%! Lego imprint on my foot.  I can only imagine what some sea creatures must say under the same circumstances:

OCTOPUS: Ow. Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.

Unless of course Mr. Octopus managed to find one of the 80,000 pairs of Nike shoes that were lost from the Hansa Carrier of the coast of Korea in 1990.  If he were shellfish enough to swipe four pair for himself, he’d be floundering around in footwear worth a lot of clams.  And, without a trout, he’d be able to go “swoosh” in a way the Nike logo designers probably never anticipated.

Other athletically-minded fishies might take advantage of a spill of thousands of pieces of hockey equipment – shin guards, chest protectors and gloves.  Since they already have skates, they could start one heck of a game, giving a whole new meaning to ‘pick-up’ hockey, complete with reeferees to call penalties for roughy.

Of course, no game of hockey would be complete without beer, and there’s some of that too: 500,000 cans of it to be exact, dropped by a Chinese cargo ship on June 28, 1997.  Although I imagine that many cans bobbing around could be painful — perhaps this is where the idea for beer battered fish came about.  There’s always the danger too that less responsible fish might drink and dive; in any case overindulgence would give them a haddock from the hangover.

Indeed, Charlie the Tuna never had it so good, if you consider the fact that yet another spill contained thousands of Hershey’s Kisses, Tootsie Rolls, and Werther’s candies.  Unfortunately, life in the deep blue isn’t always a box of chocolates: as proved when the Santa Clara I lost about 21 containers of arsenic trioxide in 1991.  And who could forget the good ship Exxon Valdez?

Things aren’t much better in that other blue expanse: the sky.  Scientists have had to set up a special radar system to track our space garbage because we have somehow managed to lose an astonishing 9,500 bits of junk in orbit.  This includes spent rockets, nuts, bolts, and even a spacesuit glove or two – thus proving your mom was right about using those mittens-on-a-string.

This doesn’t sound too bad compared to the sheer volume of whoopsies in the ocean, except that space debris has the nasty habit of traveling at 17,500 miles per hour.  Moving at that speed, even a fleck of paint could make Swiss cheese out of a satellite system, so say goodbye to seeing the season premiere of 90210 or making those 1-900-IMA-BABE calls on your cell phone.  Not to mention the fact that this stuff occasionally re-enters the atmosphere and comes hurtling down to Earth.

There is a bizarre upside to all of this.  Learning how to keep track of our trash has taught us a lot about space, orbits and materials safety.  Studying things like the armada of bathtub toys spilled in 1992 (including, ironically, rubber ducks) has shown us much about ocean currents.  Plus it has given beachcombers worldwide something to look forward to.

However if this keeps up, I’ll be able to walk to England on my next trip overseas.  Providing I don’t get beaned by some astronaut’s lost keychain.

Proving once again, that with fronds like us, the ocean doesn’t need any more anemones.

 

(Psst: Ocean pollution is a real issue. Check out https://saveourseas.com/ to help)

Image by Adithya Rajeev from Pixabay.

 

If Chandra Clarke happens to be as nuts as the characters in her book…

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Pundragon launches today, and the early reviewers have been very kind. Mike Reeves-McMillan, writing on Goodreads, says:

“The other thing about a comedy for me is that, in order to work, it needs (like Dorothy’s companions) a brain and a heart and a bit of courage. This book has all three.”

Rachel G., a NetGalley reviewer, wrote: “This is a thoroughly enjoyable romp through a strange world with a bizarre but very likeable cast of characters. Some of the puns are eye-wateringly terrible, but they are supposed to be and that is all part of their charm. I’d recommend this book to anyone who enjoys fantasy novels with a comic twist.”

One of my favourite review lines from Marvin on Goodreads was this: “If Chandra Clarke happens to be as nuts as the characters in her book, one might start feeling sorry for the people surrounding her …” My family has no comment at this time.

Marvin also says: “Let’s imagine that Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams and the Monty Python guys would have met in a pub, and after a considerable amount of beers, decided to write a modern version of ‘Alice in Wonderland’. The result could have been ‘Pundragon’.” I can’t think of better authorial company to be keeping, as they’re all influences.

Pundragon is available in both ebook and paperback format on all Amazon sites. If you’re in need of a good laugh, this might be the book for you.