save the endangered tree octopus

Cascadia Evening Post, totally straight up and honest. Sriusly.

From my earliest childhood to my brief spell as a humble Greenpeace canvasser, I have always been acutely sensitive to the plight of endangered species, and never moreso than now that I live in one of the last great rainforests of the world.

As we hurtle ever faster towards our inevitable sterile, Logan’s Run inspired future, we shed species at a rate of approximately one every 20 minutes. Please don’t let the untamed beauty that is the Pacific Tree Octopus be lost; do not let it go the way of the dodo and the snow leopard.

But together we can work to maintain the wild herds of this noble creature. Hunted nearly to extinction for its incomparable beauty, its fate need not be sealed; indeed, it is possible that, with adequate planning and habitat preservation, we could learn to coexist with this most iconic of Cascadian cephalofauna.

Save the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus has the full story.

Tree Octopus RibbonShow people that you support the cause of the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus by placing a Tentacle Ribbon or badge, along with a link to this page, on your website or weblog so that they can learn more. Together, we have the power to build a grass-roots campaign to save the Tree Octopus!

Why It’s Endangered

Although the tree octopus is not officially listed on the Endangered Species List, we feel that it should be added since its numbers are at a critically low level for its breeding needs. The reasons for this dire situation include: decimation of habitat by logging and suburban encroachment; building of roads that cut off access to the water which it needs for spawning; predation by foreign species such as house cats; and booming populations of its natural predators, including the bald eagle and sasquatch. What few that make it to the Canal are further hampered in their reproduction by the growing problem of pollution from farming and residential run-off. Unless immediate action is taken to protect this species and its habitat, the Pacific Northwest tree octopus will be but a memory.

The possibility of Pacific Northwest tree octopus extinction is not an unwarranted fear. Other tree octopus species — including the Douglas octopus and the red-ringed madrona sucker — were once abundant throughout the Cascadia region, but have since gone extinct because of threats similar to those faced by paxarbolis, as well as overharvesting by the now-illegal tree octopus trade.

The history of the tree octopus trade is a sad one. Their voracious appetite for bird plumes having exhausted all the worthy species of that family, the fashionistas moved on to cephalopodic accoutrements during the early 20th Century. Tree octopuses became prized by the fashion industry as ornamental decorations for hats, leading greedy trappers to wipe out whole populations to feed the vanity of the fashionable rich. While fortunately this practice has been outlawed, its effects still reverberate today as these millinery deprivations brought tree octopus numbers below the critical point where even minor environmental change could cause disaster.

Operation Global Media Domination: Best Blog award nominations are open

TIAYou know what to do.

Here is where to do it.

I think it’s probably best if I concentrate on this one, but I’ve also auto-nominated in this one. Gee, does this mean I’ll go blind? All nominations and votes will be gratefully accepted and you’ll be placed on my Christmas email list. Don’t let it go to your head, eh?

Seriously, there must be eight or ten of these popularity contests that I’ve heard of lately, but this is the first one I haven’t missed the deadline for. The only problem with being so weird is that it sorta limits your category choices: there’s no option for Best Cthulhu Mythos and Celebrities Making Asses of Themselves Blog.

But I would own that.

cold front

from the Archive

What is up I do not know, but everyone around here is high as a kite and has been for days. Things are crazy, which is the default in the neighborhood, but now they are the kind of crazy that makes people freak out and gets them life behind bars, not the normal kind of crazy that gets them called “Napoleon” and has them wash their hands facing north-northeast on Tuesdays.

The sidewalks are fairly quiet, except the drug market outside Carnegie, but the alleys have never seen such levels of activity (wouldn’t call it “life”). Quite a picture it makes, with the city gardeners watering the brightly flowered hanging baskets while in the background some grease-streaked Charles Manson lets off a fire extinguisher that he stole from a hotel so he can sell it to the pawn shop out front. Vast clouds of white powder tumble into the air past windmill-armed beggars spinning the haze into tornadoes while in the forground a couple of junkies jitterbug as their synapses snap and the sunlight refracts into a million rainbows as the pansies and petunias are carefully sprinkled and tended. Some wild-eyed guy comes tearing down the street the wrong way, skateboarding a shopping cart, while behind him the cart’s last illegal owner sprints madly; this is the Downtown EastSide version of an SUV, and not to be let go lightly. He is fitter, but much less desperate than the thief, who is skating for his life as well as his cart. If he makes it to the old Indy track he’s home free.

I begin to think I’m staggering from a secondhand high, but it’s just that every single pedestrian coming toward me lurches from left to right to left in unison. It’s like the Rockettes performing a matinee in Hell. I get that disoriented feeling you get in a train when you are sitting still and the train next to you begins to move. Are they moving, are they standing still? Am I?

And down by the train tracks I cannot figure out **what’s** going on. I hear the chinga-chunga of a train motoring along the track but, though I have a clear view over the ten lanes of track, I cannot see a single car move. Maybe I’m hearing my own wheels. I stop. It continues, chunga-chunga-chunga and the immobile boxcars look at me strangely. They have inscrutable markings, from OCEAN JINGO LIMITED and from Oaph the tagger. Mene, mene, tekel upharsin. I start skating again. The sound continues, pacing me; where the hell is it coming from? After awhile the slope evens out and I see that all along I have been paced by flats, an enormous string of them, so long that the engine is out of sight; at three feet in height, they were hiding below the angle of the slope. An entire train, hiding and following me and driving me crazy. No wonder the other trains looked at me funny.

do ya wanna get lucky? Here’s how!

Lucky Strike...or not?It’s big news in England that a bunch of amateur math nerds recently won the lottery. They’re pleased, of course, and rather proud of themselves for being so smart as to figure out an algorithm that turns out to be worth quite a lot, although that is, of course, in some dispute from math professionals and fearful lottery officials. It appears that you have to play the system a long time before you’re likely to hit a payout, if you get one at all and the result wasn’t, as most people imagine it to be, pure luck in the first place.

Here in Canada we prefer sure things to probable things, so we’ve developed a fool-proof system. Be related to the guy checking the tickets.

Lottery ‘insiders’ win big bucks
Odds of Ontario results are astronomical, investigation by CBC program reports
SHANNON KARI

More than two hundred lottery “insiders” have won prizes of $50,000 or more in Ontario since 1999, and more than two-thirds of these wins may have involved the deception of a customer who bought the ticket.

The allegation is made by the CBC program the fifth estate, after an investigation into the number of “insider wins” in the province in the past seven years.

A statistical analysis of the number of insider wins concluded that fewer than 60 insiders, such as ticket retailers or clerks, should have won major prizes during the period that was investigated.

The odds that the 214 insiders who claimed major prizes — $50,000 or more — since 1999 won as a result of pure luck, is one in a trillion, trillion, trillion, trillion, said University of Toronto professor Jeffrey Rosenthal, who conducted the analysis.

Now THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call a system.

Lucky you, MAYBE

Canada-US relations

Heartlessly stolen from The Infomaniac, and saying what oft was felt, but ne’er so well expressed.

I'm with Stupid