Does eating trees make you termitier than the sword?

Imagine one day as you’re reading or eating a book, your house is suddenly ripped apart in an untimely predation event, because your house is a termite, and before you can scramble away with your flagella in search of a new termite-house, you’re paralyzed by a huge blob of tree goo. I know, I HATE when that happens. Then again, that’s how I feel when I wake up sometimes—horrified and immobile—but at least it’s not permanent. Unfortunately for one gang of flagellated friends approximately 10 million years ago, the nightmare was real, and the condition really permanent.

Luckily their sacrifice did not go unrecognized (Memorial Day reference!). Scientists from Oregon State University reported Friday the discovery of what is now the the oldest example of a cooperative symbiosis (a “mutualism” if you will) between an animal and a microbe. The story is extra cool because it’s based on ”there it is!” observable-with-your-eyes evidence: in a piece of amber (tree resin of the past/not the ’90s singer of the past), a termite’s gut was preserved just after it was ripped open, revealing the symbiotic protozoans inside. (Many new genera were described, but the press picked only the one with the picture, Microrhopalodites, to mention.) The discovery highlights how organisms have been engaging in cooperative symbioses and co-evolution for a really, really, long time (“really, really” is a technical term that means, um, about 10 million years). Relationship status: It’s complicated with Microrhopalodites.

As a coral biologist, I of course think animal-microbial mutualisms are The Ish (all up in here). But mutualisms can be pretty tenuous; cooperation can turn to cheating, and the cheatee will often end the relationship, even if both parties suffer. This happens to corals whose symbiotic algae (So in love with you/It’s too good to be true) get out of control thanks to increased temperatures, or sediment, or fertilizer, or bacteria… or all of the above (PS, coral reefs are dying). The algae get selfish, make a big metabolic mess, and the cranky coral says “later, loser symbiotic dinoflagellates.” (I’m letting you go/But I won’t let you know.) Sadly, after sticking up for itself, a bleached coral often dies.

Our sappy termite story is even more tragic because the protozoans in the amber didn’t do anything wrong. This symbiosis ended not due to poor cellulose-dissasembly on their part, but by the brute force ripping apart the gut of their insect host. (Chopped and screwed.) If you ever get stuck in tree sap while your relationship literally falls apart around you, know that your last moments may be forever preserved for the good of science, like, a bazillion years later.

A Microrhopalodites protozoan mourns its breakup

My favorite thing about this story—no, not the fact that I can add Microrhopalodites to my lexicon—is that the author of the study, Dr. George Poinar Jr., is an “international expert on life forms found in amber.” Props to academia for supporting awesomely specialized expertise like that. The cynic in me is pretty sure no one in the 2009-2010 professorship recruiting class will be able to frolic scientifically within such a narrowly-defined field of study without selling it as—and researching on the side—cancer therapy or something. Science is almost always spun as applied or nearly-applied these days. Otherwise, kiss your funding chances goodbye. (Scientist-Granting Agency mutualisms: NSF, I promise to love you forev-xactly 12 more months.) A nice argument for the importance of free-reign, open-ended research was written by physicist Stephen Quake at Olivia Judson’s New York Times blog earlier this year.

I should point out that my least favorite thing about this story is that now I’m going to have nightmares about running in slow motion while being chased by tree resin (to a ’90s dance music soundtrack in all likelihood). Given the current state of my mutualisms, I probably won’t feel a lot better when I wake up.

So, to recap: it appears that both PLOS and Atlantic Productions did not give journalists any time to consult with outside experts before launching a major press conference with a huge blitz of media attention. In other words, science writers who were trying to do their job well and responsibly were actively hindered. Those who declared ridiculous things, such as claiming that human origins were now solved once and for all, were not.

I have a hard time even imagining how this behavior could be justified. I’ve sent emails to the contacts listed in the PLOS press release on Darwinius both at PLOS and Atlantic Productions to ask why they took this course of action.

It’s disappointing that such big science news has turned out to be mostly hot air. We don’t get the limelight all that often, and it’s a pity that PLoS squandered it.

Of course, Piled Higher and Deeper said it best.

* Corrected re: Carl’s comment below. Original sentance said that Carl was “unable to get a copy of the peer-reviewed research.”

Sea scorpions roamed the ancient ocean 500 million years ago. They were kind of like a cross between a horseshoe crab and a scorpion, and could grow to be the size of a crocodile. But these fearsome creatures might have something in common with Victorian ladies and hermit crabs – they might have worn hats (or pants, depending on your perspective) made out of other animals.

Based on uneven sea scorpion tracks, researchers figured out that sea scorpions must have been carrying weight on their left side. From National Geographic:

The odd drag marks could have been from the coiled shells of snails or similar critters, which the ocean-dwelling scorpions stuffed their tails into so they could venture above water, the researchers suggest.

Humid air trapped inside the shells might have protected the sea scorpions’ gills from drying out during brief forays into the open air—like reverse scuba gear.

No word on whether they went shopping with the helmet-shrimp.

Hurdia, a primitive arthropod, was pretty monstrous for the time – up to a foot and a half long. It had a toothy circular jaw with little claws, compound eyes and a giant head carapace. Scientists think it might have lurked along the ocean floor, using its monstrous head to funnel trilobites to their doom.

For more Cambrian freakitude, check out the UC Berkeley’s Meet the Cambrian Critters. I adore their slightly cheesy yet completely awesome flash animations.

Thanks, J.P.!

This lovely comb jelly is a new species discovered in early March by Lisa Gershwin, an Australian marine biologist. Comb jellies, also called ctenophores, are not related to jellyfish – instead of stinging cells they have fine combs or “ctenes” of cilia. The rainbow colors are caused by light refracted off the rows of beating cilia.

According to National Geographic, Dr. Gershwin has discovered over 159 new species in Australia, and wonders “…how many fragile species are out there, right under our noses, that we have overlooked…”

This is biased towards the cities that I’ve spent the most time in – Boston, New York, San Francisco, and San Diego. Please feel free to add more urban marine life resources in the comments.

Fouling communities

San Diego Bay fouling community, photographed under the docks by your intrepid blogger

Fouling communities are the critters that grow on artificial substrates, like pier pilings and dock floats. Every coastal city has fouling communities and they’re easy to find – just head on down to a marina and peek over the side of the dock. Mostly, what you’ll see are sessile filter-feeding invertebrates – that is, animals permanently stuck to a surface that make their living by sucking in water, eating the nubbly bits, and squirting it back out again. You’ll likely see mussels, tunicates, bryozoans, barnacles, sponges, worms, and the odd crab. Yank out a couple handfuls (don’t feel bad, they’re mostly non-native invasive species) and look at it under a microscope to see all kinds of cool tiny things, like amphipods and nudibranchs and medusa worms.

Salt marshes

Many coastal cities were built on natural harbors – which means they used to be part salt marsh. Little pocket marshes remain in most coastal cities and are great places to find wading birds, fiddler crabs, mud snails, and burrowing clams. In the Northeast, these tiny marshes are filled with adorable Arctic ducks visiting for the balmy New England winters. Bring boots because marsh mud is deep and squishy. Many cities have salt marsh-themed visitor centers. New York has one in Brooklyn, San Diego has two  – Tijuana Estuary and Chula Vista Nature Center – with all kinds of live critters and exhibits.

Riprap

Because most coastal cities used to be muddy river estuaries or salt marshes, there isn’t much natural rocky coast. But there are breakwaters and armored shores, often with a rocky-bottom tidepool-like community living on them. If you don’t have real tidepools, climbing around on the riprap can be a good way to see anemones, sea stars, snails, and limpets. Urban mammals like raccoons also use the animals on the riprap as a food source. Here in San Diego, some breakwaters are also known for housing giant lobsters and fish. I saw the biggest female sheephead I’d ever seen in San Diego while diving on Zuneiga Point jetty at the mouth of San Diego Bay.

Floats and buoys

Your local pinnipeds – seals and sea lions – are often lounging about right in urban harbors. You can usually see them right from the shore. San Francisco has sea lions at Pier 39, San Diego has harbor seals and sea lions at La Jolla Cove, and Boston Harbor is inhabited by harbor seals and even occasionally visted by harp seals. On the West Coast, find them by listening for the Urk! Urk! Urk! of sea lions.

Whale-watching

Unlike the other urban marine ecosystems, whale watching costs money. (Though dolphins & whale spouts can also be sighted from land in many places in California.)  But as a special treat it is definitely worth it. There’s whales and dolphins living right offshore of most coastal cities. Boston has fin whales, minke whales, and humpbacks hanging around Stellwagen Bank, New York & New Jersey have humpbacks and bottlenose dolphins off Long Island and Cape May, and the entire West Coast has dolphins out the wazoo and grey whales migrating past all winter. You usually get bonus seal & seabird sightings, too. If you know you get seasick, I highly recommend asking your doctor about the prescription scopolomine patch – over-the-counter drugs and those stupid wrist bands have never done anything for me, but the patch really works.

A note of caution

The ocean demands respect. Use common sense – don’t get stuck behind a sea wall with the tide coming in,  don’t climb around on riprap on rough, stormy days with big waves, and don’t harass sea lions since they’ll bite you and then you’ll get fined for getting close enough to get bitten.

Enjoy!

The fearsome Dalek, they of the mighty plunger and whisk weaponry, might be invading our waterways. Evidence of the impending Dalek aquatic invasion was uncovered in a pond in the UK.

The 42-year-old said: “I’d just shifted a tree branch with my foot when I noticed something dark and round slowly coming up to the surface.

“I got the shock of my life when a Dalek head bobbed up right in front of me.

As if the zombie apocalypse wasn’t bad enough. Now where’s my sonic screwdriver? And my David Tennant?

Diamonds in the Sky is a collection of astronomy-based science fiction stories edited by Mike Brotherton and funded under his National Science Foundation grant AST 05-07781.  The purpose of the anthology is to provide stories with ample and accurate astronomy spanning a range of topics covered in introductory courses…Contributions include both original stories and reprints from some of the top science fiction writers working today.

Best Broader Impacts idea ever! I’m downloading it right now, and will report back on whether they’re actually good stories.

Now how about some ecologically plausible alien worlds? They can be both an ice planet AND a jungle planet! Or how about psychic dolphins (my personal sci-fi bugaboo) that behave just like real dolphins and ravage a space station Aliens style?

Via Boing Boing

The leader of the expedition, fish biologist Melanie Stiassny, called their findings “evolution on steroids.”

The chemical traces of these sponges are the oldest record of animal life ever to be found in the fossil record. Their tiny spongy lives would have been lived alone (except for single-celled organisms) in the shallow, frigid seas of an ice age. But with no other animals to eat them, there were probably plenty of fellow sponges. According to Gordon Love, the lead author:

“There was no competition from more complicated animals, so sponges were probably thriving,” Love said. “Compared with other times in our history, there were enormously high amounts of them.”

These ancient sponges eventually gave rise to all other animal life, though some of their descendants scorned higher organization for the loose & easy life. Since more than 90% of modern sponges resemble those ancient sponges, perhaps there’s something to be said for a simple life of filtering seawater and spawning.

Gordon D. Love, Emmanuelle Grosjean, Charlotte Stalvies, David A. Fike, John P. Grotzinger, Alexander S. Bradley, Amy E. Kelly, Maya Bhatia, William Meredith, Colin E. Snape, Samuel A. Bowring, Daniel J. Condon, Roger E. Summons (2009). Fossil steroids record the appearance of Demospongiae during the Cryogenian period Nature, 457 (7230), 718-721 DOI: 10.1038/nature07673