November 22, 2013
As a nice little perk–presumably for being early adopters and users of PeerJ–Mike and I each have been given a small number of referral codes, which will allow other folks to publish in PeerJ for free, as long as the papers are submitted by March 1, 2014. Here’s the scoop, straight from the monkey’s mouth:
If you have colleagues who would like to publish at PeerJ, then we want to give them the opportunity to try us out for free. Therefore, as a Published PeerJ Author, we are providing you with 5 unique ‘Referral Codes’ (which expire on March 1st) to distribute to your colleagues. Each code entitles the recipient to an entirely FREE PeerJ publication. They simply need to quote your referral code in the “Notes to Staff” field, when they submit to PeerJ, and as a result they will be able to publish that article for free (assuming it passes peer-review). Please disseminate these codes to colleagues who you feel will use them, but please make sure that they realize that this code is only valid for submissions made before March 1st, 2014.
Note that this is alongside the current promo wherein, if you post a preprint to PeerJ PrePrints (which is a smashing way of getting fast feedback, or at least it was for us), that manuscript can be published in PeerJ for free, as long as it is formally submitted before January 1, 2014. So if you can get the lead out before the end of the year and don’t have an allergy to fast feedback, you don’t actually need one of these codes.
So. If you’re not a PeerJ member but you have a manuscript that you’d like to send to PeerJ before the first of next March, let us know and we’ll hook you up with a referral code. If you’re fairly sure you will use one but aren’t ready to ship yet, let me know and I’ll set one aside for you, with the proviso that I can give it away if we’re getting close to the deadline and you’re not realistically going to make it.
If we get more takers than codes, we’ll figure out some fair way of choosing who gets a code, probably randomly. I will be strongly biased toward people without big paychecks* or institutional support, like grad students and postdocs. (If you’re an undergrad, you can already publish in PeerJ for free, at least for the duration of the pilot program.) So if you’re a grad student or postdoc with a serious plan to get published, speak up and you’ll go to the head of the line. So if you let us know why getting a code would benefit you, you’re more likely to get one.
* I know in academia none of us think we have big paychecks, but compared to most grad students and postdocs, those of us with steady full-time employment are living the dream. I’m trying to reach the folks for whom the $99 lifetime membership fee would be a genuine impediment.
As is apparently the usual thing now when I’m writing about PeerJ and don’t have any images of my own queued up, I’ve borrowed images from Brant Bassam’s astoundingly cool BrantWorks.com to spice up this post. Explicit permission to reproduce the images with credit can be found on this page, which is coincidentally where these images themselves are from. Get on over there and prepare to lose some time looking at sweet stuff.
Update! Five more Golden Tickets available!
As noted in the comment below, Heinrich Mallison also has five PeerJ vouchers to distribute to deserving causes. So if Matt and I run out, the options are still open. Feel free to contact Heinrich directly or to go through us if you prefer.
November 19, 2013
In lieu of the sauropod neck cartilage post that I will get around to writing someday, here are some photos of animals London and I saw at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum this Sunday morning.
In chronological order:
Mountain lion, Puma concolor
Black bear, Ursus americanus, which taxon has also graced these pages (and my desk) with its mortal remains.
Bobcats, Lynx rufus. These two play-fought for a while. Watching them was the highlight of the morning, and maybe the highlight of the whole trip.
Gray fox, Urocyon cinereoargenteus. This guy just paused here for a moment, but I am super happy with the chiaroscuro effect.
Javelina, Pecari tajacu. Sunday evening we saw a couple of wild javelinas alongside one of the roads on the west side of Tucson–only the second time I’ve seen them in the wild.
Coyote, Canis latrans. Now these guys I see all the time–on my own street, even, some mornings.
Great Horned Owl, Bubo virginianus. This one flew right over our heads during the Raptor Free Flight demonstration. I tried to get photos of it on the wing but it was too darned fast. Most impressive: however big they look in pictures, they look a heck of a lot bigger–and scarier–swooping two feet over your head.
Mexican Wolf, Canis lupus baileyi
And, okay, here’s a sauropod, or part of a sauropod: a mounted cast of the forelimb of Sonorasaurus thompsoni. Nine-year-old Homo sapiens for scale.
So, pretty outstanding place, and I highly recommend going. But, like every other printed or digital source I found, I recommend getting there first thing in the morning to see all the animals while they are out and about. London and I walked out of the big “critter loops” at 10:30 and the Mexican wolf was the only animal still roaming around.
November 12, 2013
It’s a strange time of year for me. Teaching and SVP are both behind me, my tenure dossier is in (I’ll find out how that goes next April, probably), and for the first time in a while, I’m not shepherding any pressing manuscripts through the valley of potential rejection. Urgency has dissipated. Flights of fancy are very in right now.
Take this post. I was supposed to be writing about intervertebral cartilage thickness in sauropods, but I got distracted and drew this instead. I am going through one of my periodic bouts of fascination with dodos, inspired by the awesome poster by Biedlingmaier et al. at SVP. So here’s an attempt. It’s based on this photo from Arkive:
with some details filled in from this plate from Strickland and Melville (1848):
and, to be honest, a very generous helping of artistic license. I don’t know from bird skulls so I may have the basioccipital wired to the nasals or some other godawful assault on sanity. I did it for fun, not for science.
If you want dodo science, I have
mixed great news. Crappily–and futilely–enough, Owen’s descriptive papers on the dodo are paywalled at Transactions of the Zoological Society of London. (Seriously, guys? After 140 years you still haven’t made your nut off those papers?) BUT you can get them for free from a couple of other places–see Sarah Werning’s comment below. And happily Strickland and Melville (1848) is available for free from the Internet Archive, and in a host of formats. I am sorely tempted to have a hardcopy printed through Lulu. For more on the dodo side of the Aves 3D project underway at the Claessens lab, of which the Biedlingmaier et al. poster is early fruit, check out the news stories here, here, and here, and keep your fingers firmly crossed for the coming year. I can say no more for now.
Röck döts inspired by a few hours of stippling, and copied and pasted, appropriately, from False Machine.
- Biedlingmaier, A., Leavitt, J., Monfette, G., Allan, D.G., and Claessens, L.P.A.M. 2013. Digital surface scanning and analysis of a cave specimen of the dodo (Raphus cucullatus). Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, Program and Abstracts 2013, p. 87.
- Strickland, H.E., and Melville, A.G. 1848. The Dodo and Its Kindred; or the History, Affinities, and Osteology of the Dodo, Solitaire, and Other Extinct Birds of the Islands Mauritius, Rodriguez, and Bourbon. London: Reeve, Benham and Reeve.
October 11, 2013
But not “funny ha-ha”. More like, “funny how that neck is clearly impossible.” I mean, really.
This is another shot from the Museum of Osteology in Oklahoma City. A few hundred more posts like this and I’ll be done.
For more flamingo-related weirdness, check out Casey Holliday’s work (with Ryan Ridgely, Amy Balanoff, and Larry Witmer) on the wacky blood vessels in flamingo heads. Unfortunately, Holliday et al. found no evidence of the antigravity generators that are obviously present in flamingoes somewhere. So there’s more work to be done here.
Kinda makes me sad, to ponder all of the sweet soft-tissue adaptations that extinct organisms must have had, that we will probably never know (enough) about. At least we have freaks like this around to remind us.
September 28, 2013
Anyone who’s found the SV-POW! Tutorials useful will also like the excellent, detailed osteology posts on Tom Carr’s newish blog Tyrannosauroidea Central. Highly recommended — especially for those, like me, who have a lot to learn about skulls.
Here are the osteology posts so far:
September 25, 2013
This beauty is by Bryan Riolo, aka Algoroth on DeviantART, who also let me use his giant space Cthulhu for my Collect Call of Cthulhu over on Echo Station 5-7. Update: and here, belatedly, is a link to the piece on DA, with Bryan’s thoughts on it.
I love the sense of scale here, with paralititans striding through the surf, the chiaroscuro, and the sheer amount of stuff going on. It reminds me of William Stout’s murals, and lots of atmospheric classic paintings. Sure, there’s a theropod getting his guts rearranged, which I’m always up for, but that’s literally just a sidelight (or sidedark?) in this epic image. In short, I’m diggin’ the art in this paleoart.
For more sauropods stomping theropods, see:
- Genesis of an instant paleo-art classic
- Sauropods stomping theropods: a much neglected theme in palaeo-art
- Sauropods stomping theropods redux
- Brian Engh: Stomp time!
And if your definition of ‘stomping’ encompasses pooping on, vomiting at, and blowing away with sheer awesomeness, you may also enjoy:
September 16, 2013
Because “here’s that Brian Engh sketch of a sauropod literally stomping the guts out of a theropod you ordered” was a bit ungainly for a post title.
Here we have Futalognkosaurus sporting some speculative soft tissues, smooshing some very non-speculative soft tissues out of SeriouslywhogivesacrapwhatitisImjustgladitsdyingvenator. If you just look at the theropod’s face and not the…other stuff, you can imagine that maybe it is laughing. “Oh, ha-ha, you found my tickle spot! Hahaha, stop it! HAHAHA TOO MUCH AAIIIIEEEE–” Schploorrchtbp!!
Futalognkosaurus is clearly saying, “…and I thought they smelled bad on the outside.”
Brian drew this just because we’ve been living up to our mandate lately and posting pictures of sauropod vertebrae. So clearly we gotta do more of that.
For more posts with Brian’s art, go here.
September 6, 2013
We’re just back from SVPCA 2013 in Edinburgh. The first part of the meeting was held at the Royal Society of Edinburgh, but on Friday we moved to the National Museums Scotland. Which is awesome. And free to the public. The design process for the museum seems to have been, “Okay, let’s get one of, oh, every interesting thing in the world, and put it right here.” We have tons more photos of amazing things from the museum, and maybe we’ll get around to posting them sooner or later, but today I have other things to do.
Like make fun of Mike. And talk about vomiting dinosaurs.
This groovy stuffed fulmar, Fulmarus glacialis, is shown in the act of puking, which it does to dissuade predators. And probably everyone else. I am reliably informed by Darren that this is unrealistic fulmar vomit, and that the real thing is more of a thin stream, like the world’s nastiest water gun, which can be directed with considerable accuracy. Note to self: don’t piss off the fulmars.
Last year cemented “drawing goofy sauropods down at the pub” as a regular SVPCA Thing. So one night I was out with Mike and Darren and paleoartist Bob Nicholls, who is famous around these parts as the creator of the Greatest. Paleoart. Ever. I did a goofy sketch in my notebook illustrating the “defensive vomit” hypothesis, which Brian Engh and I cooked up during this alligator dissection. More on that another time, maybe. Anyway, after bashing out a fairly pathetic sauropod-puking-on-theropod scene, I passed the notebook to Bob and said, “Make this not suck”. Which he did. (Seriously, if you could see my original scrawl, you’d be the one throwing up.)
So now I have an original Bob Nicholls sketch–heck, the world’s first Wedel-Nicholls artist collaboration!–in my notebook, of one of evolution’s most majestic successes responding appropriately to a vulgar, overstudied theropod. Bob drew it right in front of me and I got to drink good beer while I watched him work.
And that, more or less, is why I attend SVPCA.
I couldn’t sign off without giving you another version of Giant Irish Mike, with the background cropped out so he can be dropped right into posters, slide shows, and other works of science and art. I really, really hope that he turns up in conference talks and other presentations in the months and years to come. If so, send us a photo documenting his miraculous apparition and we’ll show it to the world.
Go read this: Marugán-Lobón et al. 2013 on semicircular canal orientation and head posture in saurischian dinosaurs
August 7, 2013
I know it’s been quiet around here for a while. Mike and I have both been on vacation, and before that, we were both up to our necks in day-job work, and after we get back, we’ll be up to our necks in revising accepted manuscripts. So no time for a long post right now, but I couldn’t let this pass without notice: Jesús Marugán-Lobón, Luis Chiappe, and Andy Farke just published a cool paper on semicircular canal orientation in saurischians and its value–or lack thereof–as a reference system. This is something Mike and Darren and I have addressed before (here and here), but Marugán-Lobón et al. have gone waaaaay further than anyone else I know if in addressing the inherent variability in lateral semicircular canal orientation.
The TL;DR, from the abstract:
The variability of LSC relative to skull landmarks is large (ca. 50°) and likely unpredictable, thus making it an inconsistent reference system for comparing and describing the skulls of saurischian (sauropodomorph and theropod) dinosaurs.
But you shouldn’t stop there! The paper is short, straightforward, and freely available on PeerJ, so go read it. Read the review comments, too–like an increasing number of authors, Marugán-Lobón et al. put the whole paper trail up along with the finished paper. Nice work!
June 30, 2013
Well, I’m back. Been on the road a lot–to Flagstaff for a few days around Memorial Day, and in Oklahoma to visit family in the first half of June. Now I’m busy with the summer anatomy course, but I finally found time to post some pictures.
One of my favorite museums in the world is the Museum of Osteology in Oklahoma City. It hits all the right notes for me: just shedloads of stuff on display, mounts you can walk all around and even touch (all they ask is that you don’t climb on them), and nary an interactive gizmo in sight. Plus a gift shop at the end where I could easily spend an hour (and several thousand dollars, if I had that much disposable dough and someplace to put all the loot). This was my second visit, but I never got around to posting the photos from my last visit, so maybe I can make up for that this summer. This post just has some highlights–I’ll try to get more photos up before another month goes by.
One of my favorite things in the museum is this awesome and appropriate triple display of the three-banded armadillo.
And old friend, from a new perspective.
In my experience, in the Great Plains states it is a rare museum indeed that does not have a two-headed calf. Not just natural history museums, either–historical museums and roadside attractions usually have at least one. The first I ever encountered was at the Dalton Gang Hideout in Meade, Kansas–maybe someone knows if it is still there? Even as a kid, I understood that the link between bovine developmental anomalies and Old West outlaws was pretty tenuous–basically, both crop up in Kansas–but I didn’t mind then and I don’t mind now. IMHO, finding two-headed calves on display in unexpected places only reinforces the concept of museums as cabinets of wonder.
Of course, it is entirely appropriate to find two-headed calves in an osteology museum, and the Museum of Osteology has more specimens than I’ve ever seen in one place.
The herp case is rad: the anaconda in the middle is a 14-footer, and the king cobra at lower right is 13’7″. And check out the super-fat Gaboon viper below the anaconda. If you’re wondering about turtles and crocs, they’re in the next case over.
As anyone who followed Darren’s multi-part series on matamatas (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) knows, they are fabulously weird. As I conceive it, there are two kinds of turtles: matamatas, and “regular-ass turtles”, the latter being the paraphyletic group that includes all non-matamata turtles.
My favorite mounts in the Museum of Osteology are the smallest: a pair of impossibly tiny ruby-throated hummingbirds.
I spend a lot of time with vertebrate bodies and skeletons, both taking them apart and putting them back together, and I am not exaggerating when I say that these are the most astonishing skeletal mounts I have ever seen. Unfortunately there aren’t any external indicators of scale with these skeletons, and perspective effects would defeat any attempt to put a scale bar up against the glass. These ruby-throated hummingbirds are slightly longer-billed than the Anna’s hummingbird mentioned in this post, but even so the skulls are probably no more than 30mm long. I recently helped London clean up a rat skull (yet another thing I need to blog about), and that skull was about as big as one of these skeletons minus the bill.
That’s all for now. If you’re ever in Oklahoma City, go check out the Museum of Osteology. I recommend it to anyone who is interested in bones, anatomy, animals, nature, or even, like, things.