Category: Nature
“What do you think life would be like if we evolved from ducks?”
She looked up into the sky and, without missing a beat, replied, “There would be a lot more going on in the sky, that’s for sure.”
I blinked. “Really? You didn’t want to think about that first?”
She gave me a look. One of those Of course peanut butter goes with jelly! looks.
“Okay. So there would be a lot more going on in the sky. Like what, floating buildings?”
“Oh, definitely. Since ducks can fly, there would be all kinds of floating buildings.”
“Definitely.”
“Definitely,” she nodded. “And there would be sky traffic lanes and zoned spaces.”
“Zoned spaces?”
“Sure. That piece of sky over there would be commercial. And over there, residential.”
“Ah.”
“There would be buildings on the ground too. Because ducks can also walk, you know.”
I slowly nodded. “Of course, of course.”
She looked back up into the sky and stopped talking. I scratched my chin. Shifted my weight. Then I asked, “So you disagree with the Howard the Duck scenario?”
She gave me another look. One of those, Did you just fart in the car? looks. “What?” she asked.
“Howard the Duck. In his world, things aren’t floating. Everything is just like it is right now, except the people look like ducks.”
“Oh no, no no no no no. That wouldn’t be it at all.”
“You seem so certain.”
Now a Great, I have to teach him the alphabet AND how to count to three look. “Well, duh. Ducks can fly. Hello.”
I blinked again. Twice.
“You don’t understand evolution at all,” she continued, then returned her gaze to the sky.
I looked up at the sky too. Scratched my head. “I guess I don’t,” I replied.
We both watched a flock of ducks fly by. I think I heard her sigh too. Probably off thinking about floating buildings and zoned skies and whatnot. I decided not to ask any more questions and let her watch the ducks go by.
You can blame your expensive running shoes on those foot aches, knee problems, and stress fractures. At least, that’s what a handful of articles have been reporting.
This topic naturally caught my attention. After running two half-marathons, I’ve been training for a full marathon. Unfortunately, I had to drop out because of a chronic knee injury that just won’t go away, even after some basic rehabilitation. My next step will be to see an orthopedic surgeon for further advice and perhaps an MRI. Major bummer.
It started innocently enough in an article about toes. Published in March this year, Seed Magazine’s ”The Running Man, Revisited” discusses the endurance running hypothesis: that humans evolved as long-distance runners. The size of our toes, according to a handful of scientists, has given us the ability to run long distances. Specifically: short toes. Long toes increase the amount of mechanical work required by twenty percent.
This is from an article in the Journal of Experimental Biology, ”Walking, running and the evolution of short toes in humans”. Apparently it caused a stir when it was published in February.
Then just a week ago, writer Christopher McDougall penned two articles (that I know of) about the dangers of running shoes. “The painful truth about trainers: Are running shoes a waste of money?” in Mail Online and “What Ruins Running” in the Boston Globe.
In those articles, he reports on the runners in Tarahumara, Mexico, and the fact that they run barefoot. He cited a senior researcher at Nike Sports Research Lab who examined people all around the world who run barefoot. McDougall also interviewed Dr. Daniel Lieberman, a professor of biological anthropology at Harvard University, who said, “’A lot of foot and knee injuries currently plaguing us are caused by people running with shoes that actually make our feet weak, cause us to over-pronate (ankle rotation) and give us knee problems.” McDougall’s conclusion: run barefoot.
My friends and I have naturally been reading these articles with great interest. We’ve all spent gobs on money on running shoes, after all. I have a great pair of Brooks Beasts (thanks again Eric!) that make me feel like I’m running in air. Did we all waste our money?
One runner asked her running coach about these articles. His reply:
Take some time to read [these articles] as I think the have some great points and raise valid questions, however [here] a few objective thoughts to keep in mind. Because the articles also need to be put in context before you chuck your running shoes in the garbage…
- Our society in general, works much, much harder than in generations past, meaning that we spend more time sitting at our computers and less time sleeping/resting and doing the necessary recovery/cross-training activities that are essential for endurance athletes.
- We’re runners so we run. The lack of strength & cross-training can leave a lot of us more susceptible to injury.
- Our society also is very fashion/business conscious, meaning that the majority of us are wearing footwear that is very bad for the strength/health of our feet. (Dress shoes, heels, etc.)
- At an early age, most of our parents put us into stiff shoes, which may have prohibited the muscles in our feet from developing as they should have.
- The article discounts that the majority of people live in urban populations, and run primarily on harder surfaces (concrete/asphalt), whereas many of the runners the author focuses on were running on soft surfaces (cinder tracks, grass/dirt trails, etc). In general, runners who include a small amount of trail running into their regiment (once every few weeks is enough), tend to have fewer injuries. (However, you can’t run 100% on soft surfaces if you are training for road races.)
- This article discounts the thousands of people who have actually benefited by improved technology in running shoes.
As with everything in life, it’s always good to have a balanced perspective, listen to both sides of an argument, and maintain a healthy dose of skepticism.
I’m sure there’s truth in those articles. I’m sure shorter toes really do help us run longer distances, just as I’m really sure shoes in general have made some kind of impact on our feet. But most of all, I’m sure glad I don’t have to chuck my expensive Brooks Beasts in the garbage.
I was in London when I first realized I was solar-powered. It was a curious sensation. Daylight was as rare as a tasteful meal there (except for Indian food). The gray skies drained my batteries, leaving me sluggish and unenthusiastic. It probably dried my humor too.
Whenever spots of sunlight struck the city, scores of Londoners flocked into those warm spheres like moths. If God put a people-zapper in the middle of those crowds, he could have gotten rid of many pests.
It was not a pleasant sensation, this feeling of being drained. I once dreamed of living in London for about two years; I only lasted half a year. Six months was more than enough gray in my life.
San Francisco, unfortunately, isn’t without its gray as well. There are parts of the city that exist in semi-perpetual fog. I almost expect the residents there to look like pod people with pale skin and black eyeballs.
When the fog creeps into the city, it does so like an opaque glacier. Everything in its path is drained of color and turned to gray. If you like Casablanca and other films before the blessing of Technicolor, you’ll probably like the San Francisco fog.
When I first moved to San Francisco, I was immediately drawn to the sunny side. I didn’t realize I was solar powered back then; I just knew I wanted to be where the colors were crisp and saturated.
Before you mistake me, I’m not the kind of person who abhors bad weather. I love thunderstorms. Watching a snowstorm while in a pair of warm pajamas is awesome. Even driving through a syrupy fog can be pretty cool.
Although I’m not looking forward to my next hurricane, I have fond childhood memories of building a fort out of the kitchen table and pillows while the taped-up windows rattled. There’s a strange romantic tension in seeing bolts of lightning bounce between the earth and the sky. Maybe it’s because similar bolts of lightning can bounce between lovers.
Nor am I a sun worshipper. Admittedly I’ve gone to the beach to get a tan before, but I don’t obsess over achieving the bronze of a French fry or hash browns. There’s no temperature gauge in my butt to tell me how much I should cook.
The contrast of sun and gray was sharpest in London. Like other Londoners, I followed the sun spots. When I returned to San Francisco, it all made sense. Being in the sun was energizing, exhilarating, exciting, and any other positive e-word your thesaurus can give you.
I can totally empathize with plants that lean toward the sun now. If you stuck my feet in mud, I’d probably lean toward the sun too. Please don’t plant my feet in the mud though; I give you my word that I’ll lean toward the sun.
Maybe this means I have chlorophyll in my blood? Or maybe there are tiny solar panel crystals on my skin? Who knows. It would be cool to be part plant and part cyborg though. I could shoot laser beams from my eyes and release, um, pollen-sperm during the spring. Okay, maybe not.
Another strong indicator of my solar-powered nature is the car I drive: a convertible. While the alternator charges the batteries, the sun charges me. It’s a delight to drive, especially under clear blue skies. Even on a warm cloudless night, it’s fun; you can see straight into the Heavens.
A buddy of mine lives in Denver, a city that’s 98% sunny all year round. What a glorious statistic. It’s like Bizarro London. Hawaii is similarly bright and cheery too. And it’s not just because of the scantily clad hula dancers. In between random spring showers are showers of warm sunlight.
While in those cities, I soaked up as much energy as I could. They kept my solar-powered batteries charged for a good long time.
That’s what it’s like to be solar-powered. The energizing ability of the sun and the sluggifying ability of the gray. Who knew that people could be so much like plants or cyborgs?
Whenever people read about the science of love, it usually leads to one of two conclusions:
- If love is just a series of chemicals, how can I control it? Is love out of my control?
- If love is just a series of chemicals, can injections change how I feel? Can I make someone fall in love with me?
Great questions. So what do the scientists, who’ve explained away love, think?
Is Love Out of My Control?
Fortunately, the answer is: No.
You have more control over your feelings than you think. In the book Social Intelligence by Daniel Goleman, Ph.D., he abstracts the brain’s interpretation of the senses into two routes, a “low road” and a “high road.”
The low road is lightning fast and operates beneath our awareness, such as instincts, gut feelings, and primal drives. The high road, in contrast, is slower and runs through neural systems that analyze, rationalize, and make meaning of the world around us. In reality, the brain is much more complex than this, but for our purposes, this abstraction will work.
The stew of chemicals, hormones, and neurotransmitters that twirl in the science of love operate on the low road. They drive your primal urges. Fortunately, we all have a conscience (well, most of us anyways) that can steer the stew if necessary. That’s where second-guessing comes is; every time you’ve changed your mind about a gut feeling, you’re experiencing the high road countering the low road.
But it’s still not possible to make yourself or someone else fall in love, right?
Well, yes and no. If the propensity is there, then it is possible to amplify the feelings. If there is a cavern of chemistry between you and the other person, then not even Cupid’s arrows can help you.
How can the feelings of love be amplified? By non-verbal physical communication, such as your smile, your eyes, and your overall body language.
Your Smile
Smile. Right now, while you’re sitting there, smile.
If I had a portable MRI strapped to your noggin, I would have seen your pleasure centers light up. The very act of smiling can actually make you happier.
If another person smiles at you, they can trigger the same chemical reactions. That’s why being around positive people can make you happier (and negative people can make you gloomier). Known as “emotional contagion,” emotions have been found to be contagious and can be transmitted like airborne diseases.
Your Eyes
Look into my eyes. Look deep, for they are windows to my soul.
New York psychologist and professor Arthur Arun, Ph.D. discovered that the simple act of staring into each other’s eyes can spark strong feelings of attraction. In an experiment, he asked two complete strangers to reveal intimate details about their lives for more than an hour. Then he asked them to stare into each other’s eyes silently for four whole minutes. Like a staring contest, sort of. Sounds awkward, huh?
After the experiment, many of the participants confessed to feelings of deep attraction to their partners. Two of his subjects even started to date and eventually got married!
Overall Body Language
How important is a first impression? Not to put any pressure on you, but it can make or break your ability to score a date.
The low road of your brain takes anywhere between ninety seconds to four minutes to decide if there is a chemical attraction. And the deciding factors are more than the strength of your pick-up lines too. The deciding factors are:
- 55% through body language
- 38% through the ton and speed of your voice
- 7% through what you say
This means the way you carry yourself, the way you sit, the way you walk, the way you slouch, the way you stand up straight… All of those things factor in to the initial spark of attraction. Of course, the high road can come in and override many of these factors later, but this is what makes “lust” at first sight.
Can I Make Someone Fall in Love with Me?
Fortunately, the answer is: No.
Within the body, love can be interpreted as a series of chemical reactions. But then again, so can walking, eating, laughing, and pooping.
Humor, for instance, can be explained by chemicals. Does that mean we can make a joke funnier with injections? Well, maybe with laughing gas, or alcohol, or itching powder… but otherwise, no.
Along the high road of the brain, many other factors also play a part in falling in love. Culture, society, beliefs, values, even past experiences play a part. Who we’ve dated in the past shapes who we’ll date in the future. Some people are also more apt to listen to the high road than the low road.
This doesn’t stop corporations from trying, however. The perfume industry has been trying for years to manufacture love in a bottle. They dissect and analyze pheromones with ferocity. If there’s a way to make someone fall in love with a scent, they’ll find it.
Some scientists have also been looking for love potions, not just to fall in love, but to fall out of love. Why?
In her research, anthropologist Dr. Helen Fisher found that the three stages of love (lust, attraction, and attachment) are not mutually-exclusive; they can all happen simultaneously. That means Jim the office perv could be lusting after your ass, be falling in love with that new girl in marketing, and be married with kids. Sadly, as Fisher says, “We were not built to be happy but to reproduce.”
So can chemicals “cure” this kind of behavior? The drop of serotonin levels during the attraction phase closely mirrors OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder), anxiety, and depression. Since serotonin-increasing drugs such as Prozac are used to deal with OCD, anxiety, and depression, it’s not a stretch to wonder if Prozac can be applied to kick someone out of the attraction phase too.
To that end, early tests have shown that yes, drugs like Prozac may numb romantic feelings in some people—if the feelings aren’t very strong yet. But once the feelings take root, they are very difficult to uproot. These findings are very inconclusive, scientists are quick to warn, and the brain is still full of mysteries.
Just like love is still a mystery.
Scientists have sought to explain it, to pick and probe at it, and to even recreate or destroy it. But so far, all they’ve gotten is a series of chemicals. What they’ve discovered is great information, but it shouldn’t be used as a guide for explaining your feelings.
While a geek like me is fascinated by these biological details, at the end of the day, I think it’s best to let poets and lyricists explain love.
I love your lips when they’re red with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me the cold, calm kiss
Of a virgin’s bloodless love;
Not for me the saint’s white bliss,
Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
But give me the love that so freely gives
And laughs at the whole world’s blame,
With your body so young and warm in my arms,
It set my poor heart aflame.
So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
Still fragrant with ruby wine,
And say with a fervor born of the South
That your body and soul are mine.
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
While the pale stars shine above,
And we’ll live our whole young lives away
In the joys of a living love.
- Ella Wheeler Wilcox
This is a two-part essay:
- The Science of Love: Chemicals and Romance
- The Science of Love: Controlling Love
Love is difficult to describe. Poets and lyricists have tried doing so for eons. And they’re still at it.
But how would a scientist describe love? It probably wouldn’t be as romantic as a poet’s or lyricist’s description. I fancy it would be something like this:
Love is a chemical attraction between two people, influenced by environmental and cultural factors, for the purposes of finding a suitable mate to further one’s family line.
Simple as that.
Helen Fisher, an anthropologist at Rutgers University and one of the most well-known researchers in the science of love, would go a bit further and define it in three sequential phases:
- Lust
- Attraction
- Attachment
At each stage, there are identifiable patterns within a person’s brain, hormonal balances, and neurotransmitters. Thus, love can be scientifically identified by examining the chemicals in your brain.
1. Lust
Chemically, the first reaction to another person is lust. This phase is driven by the sex hormones testosterone and estrogen, both of which occur in men & women and enhance a person’s libido & carnal yearnings. These lead to a heightened sense of basic sexual drivers such as appearance and pheromones.
Appearance
No one wants to admit they’re superficial, though we all care about our partner’s looks to a certain extent. Through extensive research, evolutionary psychologist Devendra Singh of the University of Texas discovered that, on average, men tend to prefer women with a waist-to-hip ratio of 0.7. This applies to any weight category, culture, or ethnicity.
Psychology professor Robert Kurzban of the University of Pennsylvania also added a person’s BMI (body mass index) and facial symmetry as factors in general attractiveness. Men typically look for BMI and facial features that hint at fertility, health, and youthfulness. Women typically look for BMI features that hint at virility, strength, health, and ability to provide (meaning social status indicators like salary and education).
Overall, men tend to favor visual stimulation while women tend to favor men with high social status. This helps to explain why the porn industry caters largely to men and why “gold diggers” are generally women.
All of this happens unconsciously, of course, within systems as primal as thirst and hunger. But you can see the evolutionary foundations for such factors. We’re seeking out a mate that is capable of producing healthy offspring. How romantic.
Also gives new meaning to “love at first sight,” huh?
Pheromones
Smell and pheromones have just as much of an impact too. Professor Claus Wedekind of the University of Bern in Switzerland found that women are consistently drawn to the smell of men whose immune systems are different from their own. The more different the immune system, the wider the range of immunities their offspring would have. This is known as disassortative sexual selection.
Then Dr. Martha McClintock of the University of Chicago made a related discovery. Her studies suggest that women are drawn to a man whose smell is most similar to her father. Electra complex, anyone?
These two smell preferences are not in conflict. A man with an immune system close to her father’s would indicate a proven immune system (after all, it worked for Dad) while being different enough to provide complementary immunities. Both work hand-in-hand. (Or rather, nose-to-nose?)
The perfume industry is keenly aware of this; they routinely use pheromones to perfect their aromatic concoctions. It’s like a match made in a perfume bottle.
Unfortunately, the phrase “love at first smell” isn’t as catchy, is it?
2. Attraction
When most people talk about love, they’re referring to this stage. This phase is driven by a suite of neurotransmitters called monoamines: norepinephrine, dopamine, and serotonin. They are responsible for those puppy-dog feelings. In fact, they’re like a drug cocktail of lovey dovey motions and emotions.
Norepinephrine
This chemical influences the attention and reaction centers of the brain. In drastic situations, like being in love, it works alongside ephinephrine (the scientific name for adrenaline) to trigger the fight-or-flight response. No, this doesn’t mean you’ll run from your date or throw a punch. It means you’ll feel an increased heart rate, blood flow, and energy levels. Also, your palms will get sweaty. Dawww.
Dopamine
This chemical triggers an intense rush of pleasure (aw yea), increased energy, focused attention, and decreased need for sleep or food. It also stimulates the reward center of the brain, reinforcing the need to continue seeing your love interest. Cocaine and nicotine trigger many of these feelings too, coincidentally, except it reinforces your need to continue using the drug—hence, addictions. Thus, if you were to look at the brain of a person in love, it would look just like an addict high on drugs. (I’m high on you, baby!)
Serotonin
This chemical inhibits aggression, appetite, sleep, mood, and most importantly for this situation, sexuality. So you’ll be glad to hear that serotonin levels are dropped during this phase. What you may not be glad to hear is that low levels of serotonin are most closely associated with OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder), though they can also indicate depression or anxiety. Serial killers also have low levels of serotonin (though being attracted to someone isn’t going to make you a serial killer, I’m pretty sure). This explains why we’re all a little nuts when we’re in love; we’re literally and chemically obsessing over our partner.
Physiology
Ph.D. student Andreas Bartels and his adviser Semir Zeki of the Imperial College of London used an fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging) scanner to scan brains in love. They discovered that the portions of the brain related reward and pleasure activate while portions related to moral judgment deactivate. A drop in moral judgment? This is apparently why people say that “love is blind”. If you’re in love, it doesn’t matter what kind of scumbag your partner is; you’re in love, and that’s that.
3. Attachment
Long-term relationships and marriages wouldn’t work without this stage. This phase is driven by the important hormones oxytocin and vasopressin. Whether you like it or not, our bodies physically deemphasize lust and attraction sooner or later. That’s where these last two hormones come into play; they foster long-standing relationships and bonds that keep couples together as they have children and form families.
Oxytocin
This hormone is released during a wide range of relationship-building activities such as hugging, touching, orgasm, and child birth. Once released, the body experiences heightened sexual arousal, desire for bonding (which explains the cuddling after sex), maternal behavior, increased trust and reduced fear, and increased empathy & generosity.
One of the more famous studies of the effects of oxytocin is on prairie voles. Why prairie voles? Because only 3% of the mammals in this world form monogamous relationships, and prairie voles are one of them. Another would be humans, despite what you might see on Sex and The City.
Similar to humans, when prairie voles have sex, oxytocin and vasopressin is released. Scientists found that blocking these hormones would negate the voles’ monogamy. Conversely, injecting a vole with these hormones and preventing it from having sex (sorry vole) would result in monogamy.
Assistant professor of psychology Diane Witt from New York also discovered oxytocin aids in child rearing. When blocking the release of oxytocin in rats, she found that they rejected their offspring. Conversely, injecting a female rat with oxytocin makes it nurture another female’s young as if they were her own.
This doesn’t mean human love can be had with a simple injection; human love is much more complex than that. But this does demonstrate the powerful relationship-building effects of oxytocin. The evolutionary need for it is fairly clear too. Without it, couples are less likely to stay together and raise healthy offspring.
In fact, it is generally believed that the more sex a couple has, the more likely they are to stay together. Does that mean the next time you ask for a quickie, you can say, “But baby, I’m doing it for us, for the relationship?” Heh heh…
Vasopressin
This hormone is generally used to regulate the body’s retention of water, though it also has some neurological effects on the brain, all of which are not yet known. Like oxytocin, it is also released after orgasm. It also may aid in memory formation, tighten bonds between sexual partners, and in males, increase aggression against other males (perhaps against other suitors?).
Back to the prairie voles. When vasopressin was blocked in male prairie voles, they lost their devotion to their mates and did not protect them from new suitors. Research is still being done to discover the exact effects of vasopressin.
Chemical Romance, Chemical Love
So there you have it. Love broken down as a series of chemicals being released in three stages. Makes me wonder if this would make for a good Valentine’s Day card:
When I first saw and smelled you,
testosterone and estrogen were released into my brain.
Then came norepinephrine, serotonin,
and enough dopamine to feel like I was high on cocaine.
Now that we’re past those two stages,
it’s mostly oxytocin and vasopressin going in my mind.
So baby won’t you please,
oh won’t you please be my Chemical Valentine?
Hmm. Probably not. Scientists and Hallmark don’t mix.
This is a two-part essay:
- The Science of Love: Chemicals and Romance
- The Science of Love: Controlling Love
Dear Adults,
Hi. I am a little boy living in a small town in America. One day, I will grow up and be an adult just like you.
I am writing to ask you something very important to me. Please don’t kill our planet.
My parents tell me how fun it is to be an adult. My Mom said there are great big waterfalls in the woods near our house. My Mom said there are hiking trails that go up and up and up. They sound like a lot of fun. I can’t wait to hike on them.
My Dad said there are beautiful animals all over the world. My Dad said there are kangaroos in Australia and pandas in China. I saw pictures of them on the TV. I would like to see them one day and pet them and feed them.
I don’t know if I can because our planet is dying. I learned in school that our planet is getting polluted by factories, cars, airplanes, garbage, and pesticides. All of those things are killing our planet. One day, our planet will be a big stinky ball.
I don’t want to live on a big stinky ball. Every time a garbage truck comes by our house, it smells so stinky. If our planet smelled like that, I would hurl like Chris did in the cafeteria at school yesterday. It was yucky.
I have a little sister too. She can’t walk yet. I get sad when I think about the planet she is going to have. I am sad already that I can’t swim at the beach anymore. My Dad says the water is too polluted now. My Dad says I would get sick if I swam in that water.
So I am writing for my little sister too. She will never get a chance to swim at that beach like I did. She loves playing in the water. I know because I got her a rubber duckie for her birthday and it is her favorite toy.
I learned in school that our president did not want to sign a treaty to help the planet. I learned all about bills and treaties and laws. I think a treaty that helps our planet is good for all of us. I don’t know why our president did not want to do it. My teacher tried to tell us why, but I did not get what she said.
Maybe it is because I am just a kid and don’t understand these things. I hope when I grow up, I will understand too. I bet you understand because you are an adult. That’s why I can’t wait to be an adult, so I can be big and smart like you.
I still wish you adults would stop polluting our planet though. I really like living here. My Mom and I recycle all of our glass and cans and paper. My Dad set up a compost heap in the backyard too. My Dad said we all have to do our part to save our planet.
I think if more adults recycled, we could help our planet. My teacher said some adults already do that, but not everyone. My teacher said there are many that still pollute and are killing our planet. I hope you are not one of those adults.
My little sister crawled next to me. I told her to wave at all the adults. Maybe if all of you saw my little sister, you would not want to pollute anymore. My parents said when my sister and I grow up, we will have to take care of the planet. I think that will be very hard to do if the planet is already dying.
I can’t wait to see the great big waterfalls in the woods near our house. I can’t wait to see kangaroos in Australia and pandas in China. I want to take my little sister to see them too, with her rubber duckie that I got her. I hope we can see them before they all become too polluted, like the beach, because then we will never get to see them.
Please don’t kill our planet. I don’t want our planet to be a big stinky ball. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Little boy
“The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire,
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire,
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire,
We don’t need no water let the motherfucker burn,
Burn motherfucker burn.”
- J. Pop
I’m not sure what possessed me to light that bush on fire.
Maybe it was because I knew where my Mom kept the matches. That’s just about all the reason an adolescent male needs to light anything on fire.
It was a sunny afternoon. My brother and I were playing in the yard. We were having a war with our G.I. Joe figures. Cobra Commander and his forces were all set up on the Western side of the garden, while the G.I. Joe troops infiltrated from the East.
Then we got bored and wandered into the kitchen.
My brother got some juice. I poked through some drawers and, for some reason, took out a box of matches.
“Cool, look, matches!” I declared. My brother nodded in wide-eyed anticipation.
We went back outside. Right alongside our house was a row of bushes. Since it was summertime, the bushes were nice and dry. And flammable.
I had seen my parents light matches before, though this was the first time I’d ever held them in my hands. The match didn’t light immediately. I had to strike it a few times before it finally caught.
I held its flame under a branch. First, it started to smoke. Then, a sliver of yellow and orange glowed. We heard a crackle and pop.
Finally, a proud flame sprouted on the branch.
My brother and I watched in reverent silence. It was so cool.
Then the flame jumped to some neighboring branches, then more branches, then even more branches.
“Uh oh…”
My brother and I exchanged glances. For a moment, the world stopped. Images of angry parents and spankings and groundings rang through our heads.
“Uh oh!”
We ran back into the kitchen and started filling up cups with water. By the time we ran back to the bush, the flame had grown significantly. It was almost as high as the door. Thick smoke was puffing into the sky.
Our meager cups of water did nothing to slow it down. But we tried anyway. Two, four, six, eight cups. All worthless.
“What are you guys doing over there?” our mother yelled from another room in the house.
“Um, just playing!” I lied.
“Stop running around so much. You’re going to break something.”
“Okay Mom!”
The fire was dangerously close to our house now. Then, in a strange moment of clarity, I ran around the house to get the hose. My brother and I lugged it over as fast as we could.
The generous stream of water did the trick. We showered the burning bush with sweet, sweet water. The smoke turned black and continued to puff. But the fire subsided down to a whimper. Disaster averted!
“Are you using the hose?” our mother yelled.
We quickly dropped the hose and ran into the house.
“We were just playing!” I repeated.
She came into the kitchen. My brother and I stood there, motionless, and with the best We-Didn’t-Do-It smiles we could muster.
She eyed us suspiciously. “I could hear you running around like crazy here. Be careful, or you’re going to break something.”
“Okay, Mom.”
She nodded, then left.
My brother and I looked at each other again. Then we looked outside at the smoldering remains of the bush. And we both had the same thought:
“We got away with it. We didn’t get in trouble! That fire was so cool! What can we burn next? Muhahahaha!”
. . .
Did you ever play with matches when you were a kid?
This is what happens when the lights go out. The rats mobilize and the cockroaches arm themselves. It’s an all-out war unseen by human eyes. We wouldn’t want to see it either; it would be too horrible to comprehend.
Neither side knows exactly how it started. Legend has it: the two sides existed peacefully for millennia, when suddenly the warlike rat chieftain Lord Whiskillas began demanding tributes from the nearby cockroach village of Under the Fridge.
The Under the Fridgian cockroaches refused, and Whiskillas sent an army to decimate the innocent village. At least, that’s how the cockroaches tell it.
The truth is probably closer to a struggle over territory. Under the Fridge is a land rich with food and resources. There’s always an errant marshmallow or scattering of bread crumbs there. Whoever controls Under the Fridge controls the entire planet Kitchen.
Lord Whiskillas’ grandson Whiskillas the Third is now the rat chieftain. And unfortunately for the cockroaches, he’s every bit as warlike and blood-hungry as his grandfather.
However, the rats never counted on the enormous numbers of the cockroaches. Small as they may be, they have the advantage of speed and hard shiny shells that go crunch when you step on them. Ew.
The cockroach leader is King Uncrunchable, because he’s survived multiple attempts on his life. Some say he has feline blood, because he has more lives than a cat.
King Uncrunchable is an unscrupulous leader who favors guerilla warfare over conventional means. He’d just as easily throw dust mites into your face as he would sacrifice one of his 100 brothers if he knew it would get him ahead.
In the rat camp, there are whispers of a rumor that it was King Uncrunchable’s lineage that triggered the war. Somehow, this old king, whose name has been forgotten in the many generations of cockroaches, staged the sack of Under the Fridge.
Why? Because he believed that the growing number of cockroaches would mean an enormous army that even the rats wouldn’t be able to defeat. And he wanted the entire Kitchen for his race.
Whatever the reason, there are those that oppose the war on both sides. Leader of this opposition is Prince Ratmo, the son of Whiskillas the Third. He describes himself as a lover, not a fighter. And he doesn’t understand why they all just can’t get along.
There’s another reason why he’s opposed to this war. It’s love. Forbidden love.
For Prince Ratmo, son of Lord Whiskillas the Third, chieftain of the rats, is in love with Princess Julroach, daughter of King Uncrunchable, leader of the cockroaches.
They met one dark night in the plains of the Kitchen floor. Out in the open. Prince Ratmo was leading a squad to explore the Kitchen floor when he encountered fair Princess Julroach and 50 of her sisters.
The girls were frolicking in a sticky and delicious puddle of orange juice. They were caught totally unaware.
Before Ratmo could even give the order, his men attacked. They slaughtered her 50 sisters when Ratmo interceded. It was love at first sight. Ratmo’s beady little eyes looked lovingly into Julroach’s shiny compound eyeballs. And a strange feeling overtook Ratmo.
Just as Ratmo’s squad began to tear off Julroach’s limbs, he jumped into the fray and clawed them all to death. It was over before he realized what he had done. He had killed his own men.
But that didn’t matter. He held Julroach in his tiny little paws and cradled her broken wings. She looked back up at him and smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. “My hero.”
Ratmo took her back to his hole and fabricated a story about a marauding army of cockroaches. His father was absolutely livid and ordered a mass-scale attack on the cockroach village of In the Sink.
The rats slaughtered the village while Ratmo remained behind to nurse Princess Julroach back to health. When she was finally able to crawl on all sixes again, he embraced her and said, “I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again.”
Then she kissed him. And beyond what any encyclopedia could ever explain, they had funky rat/cockroach sex.
Back at the cockroach camp, King Uncrunchable was equally outraged. The rats had just decimated one of his villages and killed 51 of his daughters, including his favorite, Princess Julroach. He had had enough. It was time to end this now and forever.
The entire cockroach army gathered at the edge of the Kitchen floor. They armed themselves to the antennae. Toothpick spears, dust mite bombs, the works.
A rat scouting party caught a glimmer from the Kitchen floor as an errant cockroach walked through a beam of moonlight. Something was up. His whiskers could feel it. So he alerted Lord Whiskillas the Third.
Lord Whiskillas climbed up to the top of the fridge and his tiny rat heart skipped a beat. For below him was what appeared to be the entire cockroach army marching across the Kitchen floor. Their numbers were triple the size of the rat army. And they were coming, fast.
He sounded the alarm. Rats everywhere mobilized and scurried out to the Kitchen floor. They were bigger than the cockroaches. Lord Whiskillas hoped their size would give them the advantage.
“These cockroaches want a fight?” he shouted to his rat army. “We’ll give them a fight! Rat ho!”
The two armies raced towards each other in desperate bloodlust. The death toll was going to be high tonight, and both sides knew it. This was all or nothing. And just as they were about to engage…
…the kitchen light turned on.
“Holy shit!”
Mr. Henderson looked down at the floor. Cockroaches and rats were everywhere. He grabbed a broom and started whacking them. They scampered back to their crevices and holes.
“Holy shit! Martha! Get down here! Get me that can of Raid!”
And thus, the great Rat-Cockroach War was postphoned. For now. For now…
. . .
What do you think rats and cockroaches do when the lights go off?
We deserve our fate. It’s our collective fault that we’ve created so much pollution.
Call me a pessimist, but I don’t see much hope in our world’s corporations and governments. I don’t believe they’ll take enough significant action in time to make a difference. It would take a complete societal overhaul to save us now.
Everyone’s heard of global warming by now. Did you know there’s another phenomenon at work too? Global dimming, it’s called. Both are symptoms of a rapidly deteriorating world.
Scientists theorize that life began to thrive on this planet as microscopic plants released their byproducts—oxygen—into the atmosphere. Before that, the atmosphere was a harsh mixture of solar radiation and other gases, including carbon dioxide.
It’s this carbon dioxide that the microscopic plants consumed. Over millions of years, their byproduct, lucky for us, created the atmosphere we have today. This made the surface of the planet suitable for animal life.
These early plants helped us out again when, over the ages, they fell to the Earth, decayed & fossilized, and became what we call coal, oil, and fossil fuels today. But when humankind discovered that burning these resources could release enormous amounts of energy, we began to reverse all that these early plants accomplished.
For the burning of these resources released enormous amounts of carbon dioxide into the air. Over the years, this carbon dioxide and other pollutants filled the atmosphere with a wide range of consequences, some most probably deadly.
Unfortunately, we’ve all been too short-sighted to see them.
The scientists who first caught onto global warming created scenarios that showed drastic climate changes and the potential destruction of human society in the far future. Perhaps in several generations or more.
The gases produced by our industrial societies are creating a Greenhouse Effect that will drastically warm the atmosphere, melt the polar ice caps, dry the forests, and thereby destroy an environment suitable for human life. But this would happen hundreds of years from now, they thought.
Then scientists caught onto global dimming. Pollutants in the air have actually been shielding us from the sun’s rays and fooling us into thinking that global warming wasn’t happening that fast. Temperatures weren’t rising as fast as they thought, so some concluded that drastic climate changes would happen much later.
Eventually, the scientists realized the full extent of the environmental destruction. They’ve realized that global dimming has lulled us into a false hope. The situation, apparently, is much more dire.
The latest projection, according to a BBC documentary, is that in 2035, the Earth’s atmosphere will have raised enough to begin melting the polar ice caps. As the world’s oceans rise, thousands of cities will become submerged.
2035 isn’t all that far away. That’s still in my lifetime. That scares the shit out of me, to be perfectly honest.
And looking at the track record of these scientists’ projections, they’re usually too conservative. Each time they get new data, they discover that they’ve been way off; the situation is always happening faster than they assumed.
Now I try and do my own part in helping. I recycle. I minimize my driving. I purchase environmentally-friendly products. But is that really enough? Even if the entire city of San Francisco was environmentally-friendly, would that be enough?
It’s been said that as soon as China’s entire population becomes industrialized, that will mean the end of the Earth. Just imagine that entire landmass creating unfathomable amounts of extra pollution.
I’m as supportive as any other Chinese American in wanting to see China grow into a prosperous nation. But humankind overall just isn’t smart enough yet to realize the consequences of economic growth. The incentive of economic power is too strong a temptation to think about the long-term effects of our actions.
So collectively, we’re responsible for our planet. I’m as much a member of the human race as you are. Pleading ignorance or inaction isn’t going to save you.
What does that mean for us then? What can we do? I’m stricken by a sense of helplessness at this situation. I can write letters to my Congressman (although they’ve already demonstrated that they won’t listen, as evident in the U.S.’s treatment of the Kyoto Protocol). I can join an environmental agency. I can keep on recycling.
But this problem is so much larger than that; it’s a global problem, and the solution needs to be global as well. The Kyoto Protocol was a good first try, but obviously it wasn’t globally effective.
Part of me looks at this and wonders: perhaps humankind deserves this. If we, as a race, are too ignorant and short-sighted to see what we’re doing, then perhaps we don’t deserve this life we’ve been given.
Or perhaps this cycle, the cycle of “carbon dioxide to oxygen back to carbon dioxide” into the atmosphere is a check-and-balance feature of the environment. A defense mechanism of the Earth, so to speak.
Such theories aren’t new, of course. People have been theorizing about diseases and natural disasters as “Earth’s defense mechanisms” for years now. In light of what’s happening, I can’t help but wonder about them now too.
It’s frightening to think of what we’re leaving to our children’s children. Oftentimes, we think that we’re inheriting the Earth from our parents. There’s an old Native American saying that goes: “We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.”
At the end of the day, I tend to be a hopeful person by nature though. I can’t accept that there’s absolutely no hope. I don’t have an answer yet, but I know that there are at least a thousand others who are trying to solve this solution too.
In my opinion, there are generally two ways to change the world: through policy and through education. How exactly to use those to change the world, I don’t know yet. But I’m sure as Hell going to think about it. Not for my own sake, but for my children’s children sake.
. . .
What do you think will happen to the Earth?
Tap tap tap. That’s the sound of a keyboard, an instrument of the Office Music Orchestra. Phone rings, elevator dings, and cube conversations also make up this jolly arrangement.
The 101 North twisted and turned like a dizzy whirlpool. Had we driven any faster, we certainly would have added our lunch to the interior.
The vertigo was all worth it, however. As soon as we reached the base of the Point Reyes hiking trails, I noticed a different kind of music. The Office Music Orchestra was nowhere to be heard here at this scenic site.
“Hear that?” I asked Dave.
“Hear what?” He blinked and looked around. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly,” I smiled.
There was a calming still to the air. I felt a fresh breeze that was as refreshing as a cool shower on a humid summer day. A long sigh fell from my lips, along with all the week’s stresses.
No angry managers, no urgent meetings, no last-minute crises. No more web, no more technology, no more cubes. Only nature and its soft, gentle rhythm: the Nature Music Orchestra. Shushing leaves and whispering winds dotted with the occasional chirp.
We took to the trail. It was a well-worn dirt path traveled on by many other Silicon Valley worker bees like me.
“Don’t you wish every day was like this?” I said out loud to no one in particular.
“Yea, this is really nice,” answered Clarence.
“This is nice, but I wouldn’t want this all the time,” added Serene.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’d go nuts if life was always slow like this. This is nice once in a while, as a break from the usual hectic routine. But to do this every day for the rest of my life would drive me nuts.”
I mused on this for the remainder of the hike. The thought rolled around my tongue like a foreign delicacy. Every angle was tasted and savored.
The Work Hard/Play Hard ethic of NYC certainly left an imprint on me. Long Hours and I dated many, many times; it was a romance we cultivated on and off for years. Anyone who works for Silicon Valley knows her too, for she has many suitors.
That said, we often don’t notice an off-tune note until we’ve heard a few dozen on-tune melodies. A sunny day after a long line of cloudy ones is always met with celebration. Cold water always tastes better on a hot afternoon.
The Nature Music Orchestra was soothing indeed, but I would have never been able to appreciate its harmony had I not been subjected to the sterile sounds of the Office Music Orchestra first.
The stark reality of the value of contrasts was revealing. I smiled when it struck me.
Renewed with a deeper understanding, I took in a long, deep breath. I wanted to carry this back to the office, knowing it would help me appreciate the tap tap tap of a keyboard once again.
The Nature Music Orchestra was wonderful for its revitalizing qualities; the Office Music Orchestra had its own charms in encouraging a sense of accomplishment. I needed both of them, just as I needed sunny and cloudy days.
With another breath, I listened carefully to the music around me.
. . .
What do you hear when you hike?
