by Willa Paskin

The Lol thrives in damp, dark places. Indigenous to the rain forests of Washington state, it has proved remarkably adaptable and now thrives in sewers, drain pipes, irrigation canals, port-a-potties and indoor plumbing across the North American continent. (Small populations of Lol’s have even been spotted in camping grounds in the Mojave desert.)

To catch its prey, the Lol, a relative of both the slug and the boa constrictor, sits perfectly still. Rats, squirrels, mice, water bugs, raccoons, moles, foxes, opossums, the occasional alligator and other similarly sized vermin, attracted by the Lol’s bright colors and odor-redolent of rotting flesh, for reasons that will soon become
clear-approach the Lol and begin to climb on it, in search of the source of the smell. It is then that the Lol strikes. Using its two flexible, muscular tails to hold its meal still, it contracts its large loop of flesh to strangle the unlucky animal. The Lol then smashes the dead creature past a set of teeth, into the same hole where it folds in on itself. Inside of that hole is the Lol’s digestive pouch, where food is processed slowly, and malodorously, with the help of various enzymes, parasites, and the rubbing, mortar and pestle motion that is a natural side effect of Lol motility.

Previously: The Wtf

Willa Paskin is features editor at Blackbook and a contributing writer at Double X. This is the beginning of her new life as a cartoonist.

We could not end Animal Day at The Awl without the internet’s most common currency, the cat video. I have to say, this clip-which is actually a “re-enactment” of an incident that occurred earlier, is somewhat shocking to me. Like, the cat was totally frazzled by a balloon stuck to it before and you thought it was so amusing that you were going to do it again? I am by no means an animal person (no disrespect intended to my colleague Cat the Cat), but I’ve got to say, in light of this and those “let’s toss our confused and frightened pets into the snow” videos, it seems an awful lot like being a cat owner makes a person remarkably hostile toward their charges. [Via]

Rough Day For Polar Bears As PETA Wants Knut To Be Neutered

Damn. PETA is calling for the world’s most famous polar bear to be castrated. Apparently, three-year-old Knut, star of the Berlin zoo has been getting very close to Giovanna, a female bear handlers brought to his pen last year while hers went under construction. Unfortunately, there’s a snag. PETA’s zoo expert and polar bear cock-blocker Frank Albrecht says that Knut and Giovanna should not be allowed to mate because they are cousins. As Discovery reports, “Any offspring would threaten the genetic diversity of the polar bear population in Germany and risk exposing the bear couple to a condition known as “incest depression…” I guess that makes sense. It would be kinda gross and Appalachian. But what about “penis amputation” depression, isn’t that a thing? Albrecht said, “Knut fans need to know that only Knut’s castration would allow a long life together with Giovanna.” Man, with friends like these… Can’t they find another she bear for Knut? Seems like there’s one floating around on a chunk of ice wherever you look lately.

A North Carolina congressman has announced new legislation that would put the smiling face of Ronald Reagan on the $50 bill, booting aside Ulysses S. Grant in favor of what Patrick McHenry calls “a modern-day statesman whose presidency transformed our nation’s political and economic thinking.” McHenry also points out that Reagan is much more popular than Grant in opinion polls! Democracy in action!

This is the third time that a legislator has tried to put Reagan’s face on currency, and each incident has seen a bit of inflation; in 2004 people tried to bump FDR aside and get him on the dime, and in 2008 Grover Norquist made noise about getting him on the tenner. Both those campaigns failed, but given that the 100th anniversary of old Ronnie’s birthday is about 11 months from now, we can probably expect a big push for this honor. Priorities!

For his part, McHenry’s local Republican opponent said that while he was as much a fan of Reagan as the next guy looking to get GOP votes, he thought that McHenry should maybe focus on the important things, like the economy and, well, the economy. Of course, if things keep going the way they have been, a $50 bill will be a rare artifact anyway, and so most of us won’t have to think about the silly legislative maneuvering designed to canonize Reagan! I mean, when was the last time you saw a Benjamin anyway?

[Via]

Just because. Stick with it, the end is OMGSOCUTE.

“In evolutionary terms, and sometimes in real terms, males and females fight to get the maximum reproductive output for the minimum input. Identifying which sex wins has a long history and remains a highly controversial area of biology that is still full of surprises. Yet the question of who prevails in this particular battle of the sexes is too tempting to dismiss.”

That’s from the provocatively-titled New Scientist piece, “Dirty tricks of the egg and sperm race.” It’s a rather lengthy examination of how reproduction has been considered throughout history as a battle over which gender’s genes will dominate in its offspring, and how those perceptions have shifted back and forth as Science has evolved. It’s a fascinating article, and you should for sure read the whole thing, but I’m particularly intrigued by this part, at the end, which draws a conclusion based on some very recent studies.

This maternal control of growth and development has some fascinating implications. It means that, for many of the traits important in the mating game, such as body size and brain function, the father’s genes might not be as influential as the mother’s. So perhaps the fine details of what a particular male looks like are not as important to females as biologists have been apt to think. Instead, what females could really be after when they choose the sperm of one male over another is the male whose genes they can most easily manipulate behind the scenes.

Oh, ladies. Always manipulating. Am I right?

In many ways (which is to say, almost none at all) this reminds me of the scientific theory as to why men take break ups harder than women. This hypothesis, notwithstanding the fact that it has yet to appear in any peer-reviewed journal thus far, is almost certainly correct, and though there will no doubt be many of you who dispute it or find fault with its methodology or accuracy, you are wrong, and probably a woman (which, as a well-established feminist, is a conflation it pains me to make).

Let us stipulate at the outset that women do indeed take some break ups with great difficulty. In fact, I have no problem conceding that the initial period of the break up is often far more painful for the woman, prone as she is to emotion and drama and ocular moisture. But we are talking about a very short amount of time. The theory I am presenting is more concerned with long-term effects in regards to gender, and provides a more-than-plausible explanation for why we far too frequently see news stories which feature those terrible phone calls from motels where a male voice filled with both choking anguish and brutal rage inevitably terminates the conversation with the line, “Now this is happening,” and gunfire.

But let’s not dwell on that disturbing bit of imagery. Let’s focus on the causes. Why should it be so that a man has greater difficulty coming to terms with the end of a relationship than his female counterpart? (This is gonna be a very heteronormative discussion here, so gays and lesbians are free to check out some of the fine content at the right.) My research suggests that it all has to do with childhood.

Little girls are often treated as “princesses,” the object of paternal affection in an idealized-but-not-romantic way. This convention is so strong that they are referred to even by non-relatives as “daddy’s little girl.” Daddy is the man who adores them, who sets the template for what they will expect from all other men in life when it comes to affection.

Little boys are often treated the same way by their mothers. “Mommy loves you,” she will repeat over and over. “You will always be Mommy’s little boy.” Mommy makes it very clear that her little boy is most special boy in the world-even more special than Daddy-and that he will be an object of veneration and pride so long as she lives. This also sets a template.

The difference is stunningly obvious: Dads are far less committed parents than moms. Daddy may tell you that you are Daddy’s little girl, he may take you to a Daddy-Daughter dance one night after weeks of prompting, but most of the time he’s at the office, or away for business, or out with his buddies for important “man time.” Young girls, who, let’s not forget, mature far more quickly than boys, pick up on this: The man who says he loves me, they realize, is not at all reliable. He says what he thinks he is supposed to say, but his actions tell a different story.

Moms, on the other hand, are always there. They do the majority of the parenting, of the cooking, of the cleaning, of all the things that we equate with nurturing. To a boy, there is never any disconnect from the message of love he gets from Mommy and the way that he sees it play out in real life.

And this is why men take break ups harder than women. When a woman breaks up with a man, it is Mommy telling him that she doesn’t love him anymore. And Mommy promised that she would always love him! What is so terrible about him that Mommy stopped loving him? He can bury the sadness with alcohol, or watching a lot of sports, or sleeping around, but deep down he cannot fathom how this rejection has happened to him. His cries of pain, either voiced or shown by his actions, are really him shouting, “Mommy, why did you stop loving me?”

Whereas for a woman, she had no illusions that Daddy wasn’t going to leave at some point. Sure, she’s hurt initially, but she knew the score going into the game. And because women are more or less what Science refers to as “mercenary bitches,” even as she’s filling her pint of ice-cream with those fat, salty tears, she is unconsciously determining whom she will settle on next, the better to get her eggs fertilized so that the cycle might continue. [I should note here that a scholarly friend of mine (who is well-versed on the subject of women by virtue of her position as an expert on young adult novels for girls) had a minor dissent to this hypothesis, noting that every woman has one man who legitimately broke her heart and for whom she will always pine; I am perfectly willing to accept this “ur-Daddy” postulation and add it to the literature.] If she’s lucky, she’ll have a girl. Because the relationship between a woman and her mother? Now, that is something that you can really extrapolate a lot from when it comes to mistakes made in later relationships. But that’s a subject for another post.

A blogger has put together a map that shows which fast-food chains dominate which smoke-choked highways of this vast nation. It looks like your normal heat map of the U.S.A. (complete with big lavenderish splat over Texlahoma that represents Sonic) until you realize: All that black space isn’t neutral, but controlled by McDonald’s

. (It took me a few seconds, too.) [Via]

Because Who Hasn’t Gotten A Little Amorous And Decided, You Know What, Let’s Go Tie You Naked To A Tree Down At The Park?

Your headline of the day: “No harm in naked woman tied to tree in Tacoma park”

Today’s feel-queasy story: An employee of Lathrop, Calif., gave up her job in the city’s finance department in order to save the position of a 60-year-old accountant who was faced with becoming one of 11 municipal layoffs. “I could cope with the loss of a job better than my co-workers,” Patricia Overy told the Lathrop City Council during a meeting where the reductions in workforce were being discussed. The response from the mayor? “’Thank you’ just doesn’t do it.” Uh, you think?

Tough times in Brooklyn, where an altercation between neighbors got very, very real: “The victim, who lives between Third and Fourth avenues, told police that he and his girlfriend returned to their building at 5 am to be welcomed by the aroma of excrement. The couple investigated the smell, only to find — we kid you not — a drunken man ‘covered in fecal matter’ sitting on the stairs outside his own apartment in the building. The man had damaged the victim’s door, which was now also ‘covered in fecal matter,’ according to a complaint filed with the Brooklyn DA’s office.”

Maybe the guy had just been shopping for lingerie. Anyway, read on (if you dare) to learn about an apparent guest service the Marriott hotel group offers its patrons. The zeitgeist? It is indeed fecal.