That we hate parasites but love pregnancy?

Undeniably.

I recently viewed a show called Monster Inside Me. The show, documenting the journey and existence of parasites within the human body. Now let me tell you, I’ve seen some gross and disturbing things in my life. But I can tell you that Monsters Inside Me would rank very, very highly on this list.

“Mike Hale of The New York Times said that ‘there’s science amid the frightening stories and said that the series really grossed him out.’ Anne Louise Bannon of Common Sense Media said that ‘parents need to know that there is a lot of gross stuff in the series and the show has good educational content except for the tips on how to protect yourself from parasites because the information is vague.’” *

So I’m not alone in this. Most of us aren’t extraordinarily comfortable knowing that at the drop of a hat, our body may be taken prisoner by some sort of hungry parasite.

On a seemingly unrelated note, America loves pregnancy. A lot. Maybe as much as baseball. Or bald eagles.

But really, what is pregnancy? Would I be lying if I were to define pregnancy as, “[when] an organism that lives on or in an organism…known as the host, from the body of which it obtains nutriment.” **

Hmm. Also the definition of parasite.

If someone were to develop a tumor that continually grew in size for 9 months, a tumor that fed off of what you ate, people would probably be slightly concerned, to say the least. But strangely enough, once that tumor is alive (and a fetus), we LOVE it.

While I’m on the subject, can I address the fact that sonogram pictures of fetus’ are about one of the creepiest things I’ve ever seen? A four-fingered see-through half-man half-alien doesn’t exactly induce feelings of irrepressible adoration for me. And yet. Some people look at sonogram pictures as if they just saw the Mona Lisa.

Just some food for thought. Next time you see an abnormally large-stomached woman, a pregnant woman, your intuition may tell you say “awww” and touch her. But just remember, a tiny person is floating around in there, sucking all of the nutrients from its host.

You wouldn’t say “awww” if you saw a tick would you?

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monsters_Inside_Me

** http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/parasite

Weird Picture Wednesday!!!

Strange Video Sunday!!!

That the only animal we choose to commemorate with a national holiday is the highly insignificant groundhog?

Without a doubt!

Every February, millions of Americans impatiently anticipate the emergence of Punxsutawney Phil from his temporary Pennsylvania home, Gobbler's Knob. Phil then has an important decision to make. If Phil sees his shadow, he returns to his hole, and we’re faced with six more months of winter. If not, spring will arrive early!

There’s definitely something creepily weird about this. Punxsutawney Phil, a groundhog, mind you, is actually a census-authenticated resident of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.* During the year, Phil lives with his groundhog wife, Phyllis, in the town library. What’s more is that there’s actually a group of caretakers, known as the Inner Circle, who cater to Phil and Phyllis’ every need during the year. These men don top hats and tuxedos (out of respect for Phil, perhaps?)

Again, I can’t reiterate enough to you, that Phil and Phyllis are groundhogs. Not people, not even awesomely BA fighting puppies, but groundhogs.

The weirdness doesn’t stop there. America’s obsession with Groundhog Day has pervaded many aspects of popular American culture, most infamously with 1993 comedy Groundhog Day. As far as comedy films go, Groundhog Day is highly acclaimed, garnering numerous accolades, including it being named the 34th funniest film ever produced.

Another weird aspect of this holiday is the fact the fact the groundhog is the animal we choose to commemorate. This is America! Why not the eagle? Or golden retriever puppy? Or even Bambi or something like that. The groundhog seems like an extraordinarily random animal to commemorate.

Or not?

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punxsutawney_Phil

That dolphins sleep with one eye open?

Mos def!

When we think of those who sleep with one eye open, a couple of characteristics come to mind:
• Suspicious
• Insane
• Panicked
• Sleep-deprived
• Medically sick – “This symptom [eye-open sleeping]…should prompt a search for an underlying neurological problem, namely bilateral facial weakness. One of the more common causes of such a problem, particularly if it has gone unnoticed by the individual, is a form of muscular dystrophy called facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy.”*

Well, to my knowledge, dolphins don’t generally posses any of the preceding characters. In fact, if I were to characterize dolphins, I might call them:
• Cute
• Nice
• Adorable
• Friendly
• Nice
• Cute
• Uber Friendly
• Super Adorable

I would never even consider characterizing them in any similarly to the open-eye sleepers (aside from being suspiciously awesome, insanely legit, or sick how cool and nice dolphins are).

So when considering the gaping disparity between open eye sleepers and dolphin cuteness, we are presented with a weird divergence. Dolphin’s are crazy delightful while in their waking hours, and oddly neurotic during their sleeping hours.

Edgar Allen Poe had some thoughts about open eye sleepers, most famously occurring in his short story, The Tell Tale Heart. In this story, the narrator finds his roommate sleeping with one eye open. Check it out:

“I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this? And then when my head was well in the room I undid the lantern cautiously -- oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for the hinges creaked), I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye.”

After doing this for seven nights, the narrator decides that such open eye sleeping is such a problem so as to merit a murder.

Does this mean, then, that if such a narrator were to see a dolphin sleeping with one eye open, and his lantern were to shed light in the dolphin in just the wrong way, would he murder this dolphin? We'll never know I suppose.

* http://www.medhelp.org/posts/Neurology/Sleeping-with-Eyes-Open/show/897018?forums=forums

Weird Picture Wednesday!!!

That we love iambic pentameter?

It is, in fact, so weird that this is true!

For those of you whom have no idea what iambic pentameter is, I will explain it, but for those whom do, you can skip head a bit.

Iambic pentameter is a style in which to write poetry. It was very popular with Shakespeare, who wrote most nearly all of his sonnets in this style. In this style each line of poetry has ten syllables, with five stresses that occur on every other syllable, starting with the second. For example:

These words are an example of the thing!

(da DUM, da DUM, da DUM, da DUM, da DUM)

Or, in more literary sense:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
(Shakespeare’s 18th Sonnet).

Because the pattern specifically follows the pattern of “da DUM” is said to be iambic. Because there are five “DUMs” total the line is written in pentameter.

So, now you know what iambic pentameter is. What you may not know is that we as people LOVE it! An insane amount of work published today is written in Iambic Pentameter. In fact there are entire poetic forms that demand iambic pentameter in their execution (the sonnet and blank verse, to name two). Furthermore, some linguists have contended that iambic pentameter is the most pleasing metrical pattern possible.

Well, this is weird. Poetry is supposed to sound like/emulate/reflect music, and the “iambic” aspect of this metrical pattern does this. What doesn’t do this, is the “pentameter” part. As stated earlier, pentameter means that there are five stresses per line. Musically, we could say that there are five “beats” per line.

Closing a thought with five beats is severely contradictory to almost all Western music. Most Western music contains four beats per “thought” creating a seamless and free flowing rhythm without interruption. In fact this system is known as “common time” because it occurs so frequently.

For any music buffs out there, you probably recognize this as 4/4 time, because there are four quarter notes per measure.

If this idea were translated into poetry, it would be written in iambic tetrameter (as opposed to pentameter) and would read something like this:

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
(To Helen – Edgar Allen Poe)

Read that out loud a couple times. Seamless, right? No breaks, no pauses, just a perfectly flowing combination of words and rhythm.

This is because tetrameter mirrors most general conventions of musical phrasing and pauses.

On the other hand, pentameter would translate musically as something written in 5/4 time, meaning that there are five beats per measure. Such a time signature is known in music theory as a “complex time signature” and is sometimes even refereed to as an “unusual time signature.”

But while unusual in music, five “beats” per idea is far from unusual in poetry, as emphasized so adamantly before.

And that’s what’s weird. For being so wildly popular and “pleasing” iambic pentameter forces the speaker of the poem (when read out loud) to take awkward pauses between lines. Unlike tetrameter, which may be read without pause or cease, iambic pentameter demands breaks in speech to sound cohesive. In fact, I would challenge anyone to read a Shakespearean sonnet completely fluidly (without pauses, that is) and see how pleasing it really sounds.

Perhaps we, as aesthetic judges, should seriously consider how “pleasing” iambic pentameter really is, or in the least, analyze how closely music and poetry actually relate. Because as of now, there is certainly a weird discrepancy between our musical tastes of rhythm and our poetic tastes of rhythm.

And that concludes my blog post for today!

(Or in a more pleasing conclusion:

And that concludes my blog post now.)