The Thylacine blues

As mentioned in an earlier blog (scroll down lazy) I've been thoroughly enjoying The Sea Inside by Philip Hoare and yesterday I read a fascinating chapter in which he documents the plight of the poor old Thylacine.

This was a sort of wolf-dog marsupial that was driven to extinction by settlers in Tasmania over the start of the twentieth century in that classic way people behaved then with absolutely no forward-thinking about what they were doing - such as slaughtering animal populations or wiping out indigenous populations. 

However, you can't keep a good wolf-dog-marsupial down and the Thylacine may well have managed to survive. Hoare recounts many testimonials from eye witnesses who claim to have seen the creatures still in the wild, with many sounds highly creditable. Given the wildness of Tasmania it seems possible a few creatures could have survived against the odds and still be scavenging their way through the undergrowth.

There's some uniquely tragic about the idea humans have wiped out some animals from the face of the earth, without any one at the time really thinking, "Er, chaps, what happens when there's none them".

I hope the Thylacine makes a return in the future, with firm proof, and that it's well protected for the future. 

Treasure Island, the Jungle Book and muppet voices in my head

I read Treasure Island recently, as part of a mini-drive to read some old classics (facilitated by my Kindle which makes such books free!) and have to say it was very enjoyable – you can certainly see why it’s such a classic.

What was amusing for me was that as I read the book, with character Hawkins, Blind Pew, Billy Bones and of course Long John Silver turning up and performing their dastardly piratical deeds, was that every character took on the look and sound of their Muppet Treasure Island equivalents, having seen the film on numerous occasions when I was a child.

Of course, Long-John and his famous “smart as paint you are lad” line was Tim Curry, but for the rest, such as Smollet, we have Kermit the Frog, and Squire Trelawney as Fozzie Bear and so on, which made for some odd voices in my head during the commute to work in this truly dreadful summer we’re having, as ever.

After that it was The Jungle Book, which interestingly is actually five stories, with Mowgli, Shere Khan, Baloo and Bagheera merely the first of these five stories at the start of the book and it differs in many ways to the film – Baloo is far more serious, and Mowgli causes the death of the evil tiger by leading a wilderbeast stampede upon the tiger in a ravine, from which there is no escape.

Of course, again, the movie from my childhood had conditioned me to hear the voices of the characters in a certain way, so despite Baloo trying to be serious, I just heard the scat-loving comedy character of the film.

The other stories concern a seal leading his kind away from evil men, a mongoose killing snakes to protect a family, a young boy witnessing a midnight elephant rave and then a bunch of military animals discussing their role on the battlefield, and why each is braver than the other (with strong pro-empire overtones about doing your duty and the importance of a system and the rule of order).

It was a very enjoyable read, though, and nice to have finally read some Kipling, having eaten so many of his cakes too.

Whales

Long-time readers will remember I used to write a lot about Whales about 18 months ago, well I wrote about them a few times.

This was due to my reading the brilliant Leviathan by Phillip Hoare, being inspired to read Moby-Dick there after.

Anyway, this obsession led me to pitch a clip joint article for the Guardian's weekly online blog of the same name – which was duly published a few weeks ago. I just hadn't got around to writing obligatory post to give it another link in Google's massive search engine.

Anyway, click the link and enjoy.

Killer squirels

Seem to be blogging about animals a lot lately, hmm.

Anyway, as a former Cornishman, I am well aware of the dangers of fat, unafraid seagulls swooping down and stealing food from your hand. It happens all the time.

In London this problem doesn't really exist. But I reckon it soon will but with seagulls being replaced by foot solider squirrels. They are becoming increasingly tame, and more than willing to take food from your hand (evidenced by the fat critter pictured, snapped by my brother.)

It won't be long before Metro or Evening Standard carries a story of a child being attacked by a squirrel that wanted its food. The revenge of Gaia.

I am the new James Lovelock and David Attenborough.

Snake in the park

London is a mad place. This is well known. It reaches absurd heights sometimes though, taking the sublime and rubbing it in the face of the ridiculous.

Today, a bright, cloudless, vapour trail-less day, a real spring day of the highest order and, like many in the city, I take myself to a park with a sickly, over-marketed cider in tow. Waiting for friends on the corner of the entrance to one of these green areas of the city I see coming towards me a young lad, maybe in his early twenties, carrying a massive python.

Yes, a snake. He'd chosen to visit a London park on a glorious sunny day with his pet python. As you do.

I mean, fair play, but why? Is it even legal to take a snake to a park?

Accidental bird watching

On Saturday while out enjoying the nice weather I got caught up in a bit of bird watching, by mistake. While I was waiting for my girlfriend and her friends to turn up I noticed a comorant standing guide over the river, and so decided to take a quick snap...which soon turned in to several more as said comorant did all he good to provide some good photo opportunities, including drafting in a friend of his to help. The results of this are below. He's called Albert, as it was right next to Albert Bridge. It was strangely fun. Click on images below to enlarge.

U is for...

Underwater

Living underwater is often portrayed as a sublime, peaceful existence in movies or books - living in and among the fishes, using crustaceans as musical instruments, grabbing on to passing dolphins fins and riding along, but I'm not convinced it would be good. Sharks and conger eels, and manta rays and sea snakes also live underwater. I wouldn't like that.

Ringo Starr (stage name yeah?) wanted to cohabit with octopi, but I don't know why; the others had the right idea with their yellow submarine. "Out you go Ringo, you wanted to try it!" "Youse guys are having a laugh if you think I'm going out there."

Atlantis; that definitely didn't exist. We came from the water, why would we want to go back? Space, that's where we want to go next.

A thousand monkeys...

Once, there was a monkey tribe who feared another monkey tribe. For you see, the second tribe had big stones they could throw quite far - far enough to hit the first tribe. The first tribe also had these weapons, had had them first in fact, but was a sensible tribe, with no rogue elements so that was okay.

To counter this risk the first tribe decided to ask another, independent tribe, if they could store some of their special stones in their land to be able to knock the rogue tribe's stones out of the air if they were ever thrown.

But, another tribe, who the first tribe had once been at war with, but had now become friends again - eaten some bananas together, picked nits etc - said, 'you can't do that, you might be tricking us and wanting to throw them at us!'. That idea didn't work.

So on it went, with stones stored in each country, tribe I mean, and each tribe was able to aim at each other tribe and each tribe claimed they had the best interests of their people in their actions, monkeys I mean, and so they looked at each other, all hoarding stones behind their backs, saying ' you shouldn't have those stones, you could have someone's eye out'.

But no one would give up their stones, so they continued to hoard them and now all the monkeys have stones and none will give up their stones, even though if they were to ever throw a stone the entire rain forest would be destroyed, forever.

The White Whale!

Just finished reading Moby-Dick. Hell of a read. The whole thing spirals off in myriad direction, mostly concerning whales and whaling, but also taking in religion, fate and so on. At times the plot is as elusive as the white whale himself.

There are some wonderful descriptions throughout the book though; one chapter in particular concerns what it's like to be atop the mainmast and says, essentially, that it's so soporific and beguiling, to be standing above such a vast expanse of blue with the entire planet wheeling away beneath you, that you risk losing your footing and falling if you allow yourself to be too drawn in. I read this section while on the tube, about as disparate a place as you could be from such a lofty perch - where instead of a fine salty air it is the sweat of a fellow traveller that wafts into your nostrils - and yet I could conjure up the image, almost placing myself there, with ease. At 600+ pages and written in a distinctly old style of writing it's not an 'easy read' though.

This will sound horribly modern and Hollywood, but they could make an excellent film adaptation of this, as long as they cast it correctly and didn't over do it with explosions and what not. However, knowing Hollywood, they almost certainly would.

Thar she blows!

Upon us all a little rain must fall

On Thursday in London it rained. I mean, it really rained. No, forget what you thought you knew about...okay I'll stop there. Everyone knows what serious rain is like. The kind of rain that actually hurts as it hits you with such speed and regularity.

Yet at the same time there's something exhilarating about such incessant, crashing rain. Something terrifying and primeval, as if reducing us again to mere dumb animals being ruled over by the arbitrary force of nature; something that in many other aspects we seem to have such control over. Or believe we do.

Of course in Britain we're lucky that our weather rarely risks our lives, unlike those in other parts of the world, so we are able to dash about madly in the rain, laughing, seeking shelter, secretly enjoying being absolutely soaked through: once you're resigned to it, you might as well embrace it.

Saying that I had an umbrella so didn't get wet at all.

Ah the world, oh the whale

I finished Leviathan or, The Whale this weekend. One of the best books I have read in a long time. Award winning too.

Part history of whales and whaling (an industry seemingly forgotten, but at one point one of the world's most important), part history of Moby Dick and its author, and part meditation on the being and essence of whales, and their interaction with man through time, it is an utterly beguiling read; evocative and strange; mysterious and elegant; poetic, sad, brutal, uplifting and tragic in the same paragraphs on numerous occasions.

Whaling; think: men in rowing boats approaching animals weighing 60 tonnes, of 60ft, 70ft, 80ft in length, armed with harpoons to be propelled by their own strength, and nothing more. All to catch and brutally kill a creature whose oil was as valuable as gold. Being rammed, drowned, swallowed alive all a serious risk; at sea for three to five years. A way of life for hundreds of years. The first oil that made America a powerhouse.

Facts too: the world's official clock is lubricated with whale oil . The internal workings of the Hubble telescope have whale oil inside them. Up there, a whale orbits the earth; Douglas Adams was closer to the truth than he knew.

Unique, interesting, strange and compelling, this book is the best £6.29 you could spend.

Something to crow about

This is one of my favourite videos for a while: concerning the highly intelligent nature of crows - namely, their ability to tell human faces apart, even flying upside down to check if it is the person they think it is. The fact it's presented in a fun, well produced, and enjoyably drawn cartoon video is a nice bonus too.

Working backwards

Snakes on a Plane was a documentary right?

Ducks

I went to Aylesbury last Friday. The only thing I knew about Aylesbury before the visit was that it is famous for its ducks, or the ducks that used to be bred there. From Wikipedia:

The breed was developed around the early 18th century and became a cottage industry in Aylesbury in southern England. The ducks were walked to the markets in London, some forty miles (64 km) to the south, stopping at night at inns which provided large enclosed yards for a charge of a few birds. Each morning the feet of the birds were given some protection by driving them across a shallow ditch filled with cold tarry solution which made their feet sticky, then through sawdust which adhered to their feet.


How quaint and old England. Walking the ducks to market, and tarring their feet up to protect them on the long trip.

An Icelandic horse

For work I regularly have to make use of copy right free images - perhaps from dedicated sites like Morgue File (a staple of university days) - or be perusing the various terms on Wikipedia and Flickr images to see if they are free to use. Being a small company it's important to be judicious with funds you see.


What I like about this is three things:

One - that people are willing to be so open with their images. They take them and uploaded them purely because they will of interest, benefit and use to millions of people around the world. Often in ways they couldn't imagine.

Two - how many talented people there are out there. Some of the photos you come across are truly fantastic, and yet they are in all probability taken by a keen amateur photographer who is happy enough to see the image online.

Three - the best reason though is just the fact you can come across some fantastic, striking and beautiful images completely at random. Earlier today I was looking for an image of Iceland. I found this one, which is a beautiful shot and will be the one we use, but I also came across this (the image above), which is also a wonderful shot and finding it through such a roundabout way makes it all the more enjoyable.

Under the sea

The BBC’s new series Ocean is billed as “a series of underwater scientific expeditions to build a global picture of our seas” which sounds good. But like many BBC shows of this nature it featured two elements that seem to be recurring more frequently.

Mild Peril. In the first episode we were forced to watch a scene in which the boat lost contact with the diver below the surface. Those on the boat were extremely worried about this and there were audible sighs of relief all round when the connection was remade. There’s no reason to doubt this happened – although maybe there is – but whether it did happen or not is irrelevant. The show should not be about this, it should be about the fish, the sharks they were there to try and capture on film and, obviously, the ocean. Not presenters in fake danger. As everyone knows shows like this go through endless health and safety checks so there is probably very little real danger beyond what would occur on any dive in ocean waters infested by sharks. Secondly if something really had gone wrong there is no way it would be on TV. It would most likely have resulted in some BBC Trust being called in to examine the ‘serious breaches of editorial policy’ that had occurred.

Forced Social History Lesson. There must be something in the BBC charter that now means more must be done to focus on the social history of areas that shows cover. In Ocean we had a segment in which Dr Lucy Blue, a maritime archaeologist, swam around the wreck of a boat in which Chinese immigrants had attempted to enter the US. Okay, but what’s that got to do with oceans? They came by a boat that travelled on the ocean? Is that it? And there’s not some tragic tale of the ships sinking either. It was only explained at the end of this section that the boat had been deliberately sunk to create an artificial reef. Surely that’s the most relevant angle to be covered in Ocean’s remit? It felt like a snatched footnote of information that should have been at the core of the show.

The BBC though is a victim of its own success. After decades of making some of the best nature documentaries ever made – Trials of Life, Blue Planet, Planet Earth – with David Attenborough, winner of the Culture Show’s Greatest Living Icon award, at the helm, they appear to have reached a crossroads and can’t decide where to go next. Should they be serious or fun? Educational, entertaining or edutainment? They need to make up their mind soon though before they risk undermining a legacy of shows on the natural world that, even now, still justify the license fee.

Oh dear

Well I don't know what they were expecting. The term 'undisclosed sum' suggests they probably paid a little too much than they would like to admit.

Friday afternoon

How did they get the penguin to 'actually' inspect the troops like that?

Around Every Corner

I thought this picture was a rather extreme example of some of the terrifying sights the service personal encounter in Iraq on a daily basis.