The silver tongue of Sir David Attenborogh, naturalist and broadcaster, has laid narration over many a cool project. But, I will never forget seeing the PBS Nova special on bowerbirds, “Flying Cassanovas” because the plain, brown males of Papua New Guinea and Austraila engage in a seriously compelling mating ritual.

First, they build their nests or “bowers” elaborate twig huts on the ground, supported by a center beam. Next, they fly around and search for brightly colored or unusual objects and lay elaborate carpets in their bower doorway to attract mates.

Mushrooms, orange peels, blossoms, decorative glass from cemeteries and little girls’ hair ties were just some of the objects the males chose to adorn their bowers. Objects moved by researchers are quickly replaced by the male birds who refine the composition over and over in hopes of attracting a mate.

I didn’t realize how exceptional the footage in the documentary was until I started searching the internet for photo examples. These photos here do not compare to the bower arrangements filmed for the PBS piece, so I really recommend finding it.

At the time, the idea of birds who create aesthetic arrangements really blew my mind. I thought that the “arts” were human talents that separated us from other species?!

First Mr. Ed, now this.

One of the great American visionaries of the twentieth century, R. Buckminster Fuller (1895-1983) endeavored to see what he, a single individual, might do to benefit the largest segment of humanity while consuming the minimum of the earth’s resources. Doing “more with less” was Fuller’s credo. He described himself as a “comprehensive anticipatory design scientist,” setting forth to solve the escalating challenges that faced humanity before they became insurmountable…”

Read more about Buckminster Fuller on display at the Whitney exhibit.

Allegedly, this is the Earth from 4 billion miles away photographed by Voyager 1 on June 6, 1990.

The folks here at A.O. have never been 4 billion miles away from Earth which puts us in the uneasy position of trusting the government on this one.

We like to think of it as trusting Carl Sagan.

What were you doing in 1990? We happen to know a sordid number of our compatriots were watching “Driving Ms. Daisy” and singing along to Bette Midler’s “The Wind Beneath my Wings.”

via

These Racetrack Playa rocks weigh several hundred pounds, but still manage to inch their way across Death Valley National Park leaving long trails behind them. No one knows for sure how they move.

I can guarantee I will be at the bar later tonight trying desperately to convey to some poor, trapped soul how interesting/terrifying I find this phenomenon. “See, theese rocks…no boulders really….they’re huge….in the middle of nowhere…moving veeery slowly… (AO makes sinister creeping motion with hands)…”

This will fail completely. But we will know the real score, AO readers, won’t we?

Read more about these rocks coming to get you, slow but steady.

via today and tomorrow.

1. Stephan Zick, 1639-1715
Wood and ivory

2. “Medical Venus”
Clemente Susini, late 18th century, wax
La Specola, University of Florence

via bioepherma. She has a really fascinating article on the art of the anatomical modeling of pregnant women. We had not considered that.

Pythagoras, 550BC

Aristotle, 35o BC

Albert Henry Munsell 1915

I found this series of images charting the history of color systems intriguing.

via BibliOdessey.

McSweeney’s has an ongoing contest that asks readers to submit convergences, “an unlikely, striking pair of images, along with a paragraph or three exploring the deeper resonances.” I hadn’t personally come across a compelling convergence until today. The top image comes from a special exhibition by coe & waits (of porcelain pinecone fame) for a Toronto hotel.

coe & waito’s hand sculpted, porcelain jellyfish, I’d like you to meet air pockets frozen in place in Lake Bonney in Victoria Land, Antartica.

Truth be told, I’m not sure how “unlikely” this convergence is, really, but I still think it’s neat.

On July 18, 1969, two days before the first lunar landing, presidential speechwriter William Safire composed the following text to be read by President Nixon if astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin were stranded on the moon:

Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.

These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice.

These two men are laying down their lives in mankind’s most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding.

They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by the nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown.

In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.

In ancient days, men looked at the stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.

Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man’s search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts.

For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.

Safire also suggested that Nixon call the “widows-to-be” before the speech, and that a clergyman should commend the astronauts’ souls to the “deepest of the deep” when communications ended.

via the Futility Closet

Rat heart, stripped of cells = ghost rat heart

Dr. Doris A. Taylor of the University of Minnesota did some pretty smart science. In trying to solve the age old how-to of human organ generation, she decided tissue generation, not cell replication, was the root problem. So, she refocused her energy on the difficulty of recreating the 3D structure of the heart - a sticky ham due to the intricate nature the heart’s framework. The solution?

Dr. Taylor and her team washed harvested dead rat hearts, leaving the framework of arteries and valves intact. Next, using the expired heart as a scaffolding, the team injected newborn baby rat heart cells and simulated blood pressure. Within two weeks, they had a beating, electrical impulse conducting, blood pumping zombie rat heart.

Tissue engineers all over their world seem to be thunking their collective forehead at the simple elegance of Dr. Taylor’s solution. Seeding an organ with cells from the recipient helps resolve the issue of implanted organs being rejected by the recipient’s immune system. The ability to use the organs of cadavers as scaffolds for new, viable organs - a coup for transplant doctors, patients and B movie screen writers worldwide.

The implications for humans? Well, first up against the wall are the pigs of the world. Their heart resembles a human heart and, like rats, they are readily available. The next step is to get the heart to pump enough blood to support a body as large as a pig - or human. In this New York Times article, Todd N. McAllister of Cytograft Tissue Engineering in Novato, Calif., had this to say to the New York Times about exporting this advance to humans and other human organs:

The principal problem in escalating it to humans is one of scale, not of cell biology, and that is an easier problem to solve potentially.

So now, instead of inventing the wheel, they just need to make it haul the wagon. Finally, a use for all that science!

“It looks like a ghost heart. And it feels a little like jello.”

Doris Taylor

Amid the many awards Dr. Taylor will receive for her discovery, she seems a shoe-in for the infamous Least Scientific Analogy of the Year. “It looks like what? Ah yes. The old Ghost Heart.” (Seriously though, it does look awesomely spooky–I’m on the zombie rat heart bus).

These ice spikes are called penitents because of their purported resemblance to rows of white robed monks.

Penitents range in height from centimeters tall to 16 feet high. They are formed by welled, reflecting sunlight melting snow dimples to rivulets than trenches and so on. Pretty fancy.

And while I get the appeal, if I were on a stroll through a slick field of icy spikes, I’d be nervous.

Visit Deputy Dog to see more unnerving sleight of hand from Ole Mother Nature.