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A short pictorial post today…but a good one. Behold: baby skunks!
The world seems to little appreciate skunks and gleeful stories of them being crushed or poisoned were common when I was growing up. It strikes me as terribly sad, since skunks are mild-mannered, non-confrontational, and eat all sorts of pests. Also look at them! They are as adorable as kittens, and that is really saying something.
Anyway, this isn’t really supposed to be a public service announcement (although I do hope you will be kind to skunks (although, like all of us placental mammals they can catch rabies, so avoid any that show up in daytime behaving strangely). In the mean time, have a good week and stay healthy!
Imagine a colony of little shrimp frolicking on the bottom of the ocean when suddenly the earth opens up its mouth and swallows one of the shrimp: the sandy substrate was actually a lurking flatfish hunting for dinner. In the shadowy depths even bigger predators are in turn hunting the flounder. Glistening hooks with sparkling bait descend from unknown realms above.
The Great Flounder of Babylon (Wayne Ferrebee, 2016) Ink on Paper
The Great Flounder is a symbolic avatar of the worldwide ecosystem–a seemingly adversarial realm of constant cutthroat competition. Yet closer study of ecology reveals that living things are far more dependent on each other than the predator/prey relationship makes it seem. If a flounder eats a shrimp, the world moves on. If all of the shrimp vanish, or if all of the flounder are fished out of the ocean, other dominoes begin to fall and the whole web of life starts to dwindle and fold inwards.
This brings us to humankind, a worldwide collective of cunning primate colonies which are in ferocious violent competition with each other.
Fluke Baby (Wayne Ferrebee, 2019) Mixed Media
If there were ever an aymmetrical animal, t’is surely us. Our history and our science have given us a unique place in the world ecosphere–but we are not dealing well with our new prominence. This piscine artwork reflects our past and our present. In the flounder’s tragicomic eyes we can perhaps glimpse our future of glory, grandeur, and doom.
Heav’n from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescrib’d, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas’d to the last, he crops the flow’ry food,
And licks the hand just rais’d to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv’n,
That each may fill the circle mark’d by Heav’n:
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurl’d,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
An Essay on Man: Epistle I, Alexander Pope
It’s the day before the deadline for filing taxes here in America—an ordeal which only grows more complicated (thanks, Intuit, for lobbying to keep the code as complex as possible). From sea to sea, Americans are staring in baffled confusion at heaps of forms and receipts and rules. Well, probably the organized ones are happily enjoying their calm evenings and successful lives, having filed months ago…but that certainly doesn’t include everyone! Anyway, in an ill-conceived effort to make this deadline more palatable, here are some pictures of adorable baby tapirs!
Tapirs are actually perissodactyls. Their closest relatives are the horses and rhinoceroses. Perissodactyls were once the dominant quadruped grazers of the grasslands and forests of the Miocene and the Oligocene, but in more recent geological periods the odd-toed ungulates have been fading away. We can still catch glimpses of these glory years with pictures of adorable tapirs though.
Ferrebeekeeper has mentioned tapirs before—in connection with the baku, a mysterious and compelling mythological creature said to feast on dreams. I promise to come back and talk about tapirs properly and at length—they are exceedingly interesting survivors or a great age, however today we are focused only on their adorable properties. Look at how cute these dappled babies are (the little tapirs lose their protective dots as they grow into adulthood). Good luck with your own red tapir, er, I mean red tape. We will return to regularly scheduled posts tomorrow…just as soon as I drop some documents in the virtual post-office box.
Aww…look: a baby planet! This is the youngest known exoplanet—a mere 5 to 10 million years old. It orbits its star every 5 days—a ridiculously short year which puts even Mercury’s 88 day orbit to shame (although, to be fair, the planet is 10 times closer to its star than Mercury is to the sun). The newly discovered world is approximately 500 light years from Earth. Researchers discovered the world with the Kepler space telescope (which continues to disgorge a treasure trove of data, even after its primary mission has ended because of mechanical failure).
The planet is thought to be about the size of Neptune. Since its star, K2-33, is only 10 million years old, the planet is assumed to be younger than that…though who knows. The strange nature of this system may cause scientists to rethink and refine their models of planetary formation. It isn’t the sort of thing they expected (though these super-hot giant planets right next to their stars seem to be more common than anyone would have guessed).
Back during the glorious infancy of my blog I wrote a great deal about the demi-god Heracles (a.k.a. Hercules)–the greatest classical hero, who slew so many of the children of Echidna (and even grappled with Echidna herself). For some reason, when I was growing up, I always had a mental picture of Heracles as a meat-head who solved every problem by means of brute strength; however, as an adult my perspective on the hero has changed greatly. The craftiness with which Heracles faced problems like the Hydra and the journey to the underworld reveals that his cunning and his political guile became greater and greater as he ground on through his quests and labors towards godhood. A big part of absolute power involves mastering craftiness…and manners. In fact the story of Heracles is really an epic quest to please a picky mother-in-law (but more about this later). At any rate, when his plans went awry, Heracles always had brute strength, but it often rebounded on him and was the source of his greatest problems as well as his greatest victories.
Which brings us all the way back around to Hercules’ first great exploit—which was purely of the brute strength variety. Heracles was the son of Zeus and the beautiful shrewd mortal woman Alcmene (who had a magical pet weasel—but more about that another day). Naturally Hera hated this rival and she chafed at the glorious prophecies of what the child of Alcmene would one day accomplish. Hera tried to prevent the birth of Heracles by means of her subaltern, the goddess of childbirth. When this failed, she resorted to brute force on her own right and she sent two mighty serpents to kill the baby in his crib. Heracles grabbed one of the poisonous serpents in his right hand and the other in his left and throttled them to death with super strength. The first glimpse we get of Heracles is a majestic picture: an infant throttling two great snakes in his bare hands. This image was sculpted and painted again and again throughout the history of western art. It foreshadows Heracles’ difficult life, and his triumph, and his methodology. Here is a little gallery of baby Heracles/Hercules throttling snakes:
Funny Sketch of Giants (Wayne Ferrebee, 2015, ink and colored pencil)
This year, I have been carrying a small sketchbook and some colored pencils around with me and doodling in it. Here are three small drawings/sketches that I made when I was doing other things. I sketched the mountains with the giant, the fountain, and the goblin on the subway (although I colored some of it in at my desk afterwards). The picture of lower Manhattan comes from the picture window on the 9th floor of the Brooklyn courthouse from my day of jury duty (don’t worry I wasn’t skiving from my civic duty–but there was a lot of downtime). I sketched the donut baby while I was talking to a friend about stickers and Philistines (Biblical and otherwise) so it may have been influenced by that peculiar conversation.
Sketch of Lower Manhattan from Courthouse (Wayne Ferrebee, 2015, ink and colored pencil)
Kindly let me know what you think! I’m afraid have been running around trying to figure out my new job, so please forgive me for my tardy responses to comments during the past week. I love comments & I promise I will answer everybody. Just give me a moment to figure out how everything works!
Strange Priests with Donut (Wayne Ferrebee, 2015, ink and colored pencil)
The Union of the Crowns of England and Scotland (Peter Paul Rubens, ca. 1632-1634, oil on canvas)
This strange work “The Union of the Crowns” is by the consummate painter’s painter, Peter Paul Rubens. It shows the symbolic joining of the crowns of England and Scotland, an event which occurred upon the death of Queen Elizabeth I on March 24, 1603. When Elizabeth Tudor died without an heir, the crown of England passed from her to her first cousin twice removed— James VI, King of Scots (thereafter also James I of England & Ireland). The United Kindom did not formally become one imperial kingdom until the Acts of Union of 1707, but once a single sovereign held both thrones, the way was certainly paved for the merger. This mighty canvas hangs in the banqueting hall at Whitehall and it shows James I attentively watching as Juno and Venus hold the two crowns over a regal chubby naked baby (who may be Great Britain or may be an infant Charles I–back when he still had a head). Minerva joins the crowns together as flying putti hold the conjoined shield aloft among a suffusion of roses.
England and Scotland with Minerva and Love (Peter Paul Rubens, ca. 1632-1634, oil on canvas)
Rubens knew exactly how to pander to aristocratic tastes…and how to bang out lucrative political allegories with help from his extensive studio. There are several other slightly different versions of “The Union of the Crowns” by the master (& co.) located around England at the estates of various noblemen who stood to gain from the union. As Scotland nears a fateful electoral choice later this year, one wonders if a painter will be called upon to paint the division of the crowns by strife, nationalism, and vested interest…
Union of England & Scotland, Peter Paul Rubens, 1630, oil on panel)
Today’s a post concerns Kahausibware, a dark ambiguous serpent-deity whose story is part of the mythology of Makira (which was known as San Cristóbal during the colonial era) an island in Solomon chain. Kahausibware was a Hi’ona—a powerful supernatural being who created the world. Like the Chinese serpent goddess Nüwa, Kahausibware was a demiurge—a primeval creator deity who gave life to humanity, however, Kahausibware was not as benevolent & understanding as gentle Nüwa.
According to myth, Kahausibware created pigs, cocoa-nut trees, and fruit trees. Having created food, she then created animals and humans to use it. Since the world was new, death was unknown. Unfortunately Kahausibware was not patient with her creations and she had no tolerance for annoyances or distractions. One day, a woman (who was an offspring of Kahausibware) requested that the serpent-deity babysit while she (the woman) went to harvest fruit. The human child would not stop screaming and wailing, so Kahausibware wrapped around the infant and suffocated him—thus bringing death into the world. At this fateful moment the woman returned with her fruit. Seeing her child dead, she flew into a rage and began to hack Kahausibware into pieces with an axe.
Ornamented War Axe, Solomon Islands–19th century (photo by Hughes Dubois)
The snake-being was divine, so her dismembered pieces kept fusing back together, but the pain of the assault was overwhelming. The serpent escaped into the ocean and swam away forever from the island of Makira, but, as she left she withdrew her blessings of abundance and ease. Since that time, life in the Solomon Islands has become difficult. Famines and crop failures became facts of life and death spread everywhere. The islanders still venerate snakes, the mortal embodiment of Kahausibware—but where the amoral creator has gone is a mystery.
Custom Dancing on Makira (Photo by Bruce Hops)
Mitik the Baby Pacific Walrus (Odobenus rosmarus)
One Brooklyn resident whose home was flooded by the hurricane was already an orphan. Mitik the baby walrus was rescued off the coast of Barrow, Alaska by fishermen after he became permanently separated from his mother. He was extremely sick when he came to the Coney Island Aquarium about a month ago–but his health has been improving dramatically. He started eating antibiotics and stopped taking antibiotics a week after coming to the Big Apple. The New York Aquarium is one of the few zoos which houses walruses, but before Mitik came along they only had two cows, one of whom is advanced in years. Walruses are social and don’t like being alone so Mitik is exactly what the aquarium needs (and vice-versa since the little walrus could not have survived without round-the-clock veterinarian care).
Mitik
Mitik had not yet made a public debut when the storm hit. Fortunately the staff at the aquarium put in a heroic effort to keep all the life support systems running as the facility flooded. Mitik is fine but the buildings are badly flooded and power is out (although generators are running critical systems). A statement by the aquarium director says that the aquarium will decide tomorrow whether to move any animals. The aquarium is closed indefinitely for repairs and rennovations.
Other than the aquarium–which is right next to the ocean–none of the city’s zoos were seriously damaged by the storm. Thanks to all of the brave aquarium personnel for looking after all of our finned and flippered friends during the storm and good luck getting the aquarium up and running so we can all see Mitik when he finally makes his big appearance!
A Colugo photographed in mid-glide
In the vanishing rainforests of Southeast Asia there lives a vanishing order of mammals named the Dermoptera. The entire Demoptera order consists of only two species (for contrast, all 3000 plus different species of catfish are in a single order of fish–the Siluriformes). The arboreal gliding Dermoptera are more commonly called Colugos. Measuring 35 to 40 centimeters (14 to 16 in) in length and 1 to 2 kilograms (2.2 to 4.4 lb), Colugos are the size of a very small cat. They are the most accomplished gliders among all of the mammals and they have been known to glide as far as 70 meters (230 feet) between tall rainforest trees. Both species of Colugos are complete herbivores. They live on fruit, flowers, nuts, and shoots which they digest with highly effective stomachs and extremely long intestines. Although colugos have digestive organs well-suited to their lives in the trees, they are unexpectedly terrible climbers. Without opposable thumbs or powerful muscles they must awkwardly “hop” up trees while clinging desperately to the bark with sharp little claws. Fortunately their proficiency at gliding means they can sail laterally from tree to tree without losing too much altitude. It should be mentioned that colugos are sometimes called “flying lemurs” though they are not lemurs and can not truly fly.
Cynocephalus variegatus (© 2006 Jwee)
Very little is known about Colugos (if you really want to make a crazy nature documentary, here’s your chance). They are shy, nocturnal loners who live in the tops of huge trees. Colugos are hunted by eagles, owls, and humans, but they adapt well to different habitats and can live in primary and secondary forests (as well as in human created monocultures such as coconut and rubber plantations). During the day they shelter in holes or cling beneath branches. The only major exceptions to their largely solitary lives occur among nursing mothers who care for young colugos for 2 to 3 years—a remarkably long time for a small animal. Although colugos are placental mammals, they have strangely marsupial habits. Babies are born in an undeveloped form and cling to their mother’s belly for six months (even as she glides between trees!). Mother colugos can shelter their infants by folding their flying membranes around the little ones in a warm snuggie-like pouch.
Colugo (Cynocepahlus variegatus) and baby on a Mango Tree (Photo: Gerardo Angelo)
The lengthy period during which Colugos are dependant on their mother becomes more comprehensible when their family relationships with other mammals are untangled. Colugos are closely related to tree shrews, but, looking at them more carefully something seems oddly familiar. That is because there is one other mammalian order which they are even more closely related to then the tree shrews—the primates. According to molecular biologists, they are the most closely related to us of all other orders of living things.
ferrebeekeeper 