Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Cock Blocking for Science

Come on man:
Male great bowerbirds (Chlamydera nuchalis) build intricate bowers – tunnels built from interlaced twigs. Ornaments like stones and shells are placed at the tunnel's end creating a "court". Females sit inside the tunnel, while males strut around the court attempting to woo them.

By measuring the size and position of ornaments that were displayed on 33 different bower courts, Endler found that in all cases the males had carefully laid them out in order of increasing size. The objects gradually became bigger the further they were from the entrance to the bower.

Endler then reversed 15 bowerbird courts, placing larger objects close to the opening of the tunnel, but their owners would have none of it. After just three days, 14 bowerbirds – nearly half the study group – had returned their courts to the original design. Within two weeks all courts had been fixed.

This suggests order on the court is important to the males, says Endler. "Clearly, they didn't like it when I changed it around."
You know, when a bird shits on your shoulder before you head into the club, here's betting you clean up.

6 comments:

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I think this is related to sports cars for fifty year olds, but I can't quite connect the stones.
~

M. Bouffant said...

I was looking for a picture of this bowerbird, because he is a fat slob w/ too much hair & four eyes (Me: Less hair, it's still mostly blonde, & less poundage. But I can see it.) & last Weds. was the same place I was, where several people who didn't know me (It can happen.) confused us.

While looking, I came across this; the privacy aspect of the post is not un-interesting.

If the Foo shits, wear it!

mikey said...

Uh oh. I am very frightened. Here's what happened.

I got up a couple hours ago, put on a pot of coffee and went out the front door and down the steps to stretch my legs. Wandered about the neighborhood, taking in the stillness of the thick fog and the competing scents of incense and baking bread in the cool damp.

After a bit, I figured the coffee would be ready, so I wandered back home, up the steps, whereupon I froze. Something wasn't right. I won't claim my spidey sense was tingling, but I AM still breathing, so there's something to that whole internal alarm thing. I slowly backed down the steps looking more carefully at my surroundings.

Sure enough. THAT potted tree was supposed to be over THERE, and THOSE decorative stones belong on the other side, and just where the hell was the garden gnome? Huh. I shrugged, put everything right and went inside. I fired up the old living room computer and in the course of things read this post.

Now I understand. Scientists. Fucking scientists, fucking with my shit, making notes, watching me put it back. Goddam elitest motherfuckers with their education and their research. Well, this shit won't stand. They come back to shuffle the deck on my front deck, they're going to get a few surprises. Study THIS, egghead!

mikey's nextdoor neighbours said...

Who is this big guy using my computer?

M. Bouffant said...

Mizzpelled: Chlamydia

Substance McGravitas said...

Now I understand. Scientists. Fucking scientists, fucking with my shit, making notes, watching me put it back.

Welcome to my childhood, fellow brain-in-a-dish.