Decontamination. Do Not Want!
Oh, it's just the neighbors showing their daughter the ropes of beekeeping.
Somethings gone wrong; they sure are hopping around.
Ow! Respect the property line, you fuzzy communists!
Kudos to the individual who collected these priceless treasures in his basement until the computer age allowed them to be shared with the whole world.
I guess by the late 1950's they were desperate for an animal, any animal that hadn't been featured on the cover a half dozen times. Pangolins though. I mean, really? That is one animal that just wants to go about its business without hurting anyone until a tourist decides a photograph of little Johnny riding it is just the thing to show the folks back home.
Still, I'm sure the Termite-People were grateful.
I did about ten minutes research after coming upon this painting and learned that it graced the cover of Men's Life in September of 1956 and the artist was Wil Hulsey, whose works are apparently popular amongst those who collect such things. The actual story was a bit more mundane, concerning a farmer's struggle to keep his ducks from being killed. (Perhaps not. Like a classical scholar trying to piece together a Greek play from papyrus fragments and quotes from other contemporary authors, I'm too tight to buy a digital copy of the story and must use nuggets from bloggers who have. Consequently, I think the story features a barn on fire from an errant shotgun blast and the farmer rolling on the ground choking the life out of a weasel.)
I also learned that I'm way late for this party. "Weasels Ripped My Flesh" struck the kitsch chord as far back as 1970 when it inspired an album cover for Frank Zappa, and it has popped up on the internet on a regular basis as #1 in the manly men magazine cover countdown contest.
One of the great blessings of the internet: you are never alone, and there are more people out there who like the things you like than you ever suspected. Of course the down side is that you are not that original either.
After the wind blew away my plants, I promptly started a new tray of seedlings. After they sprouted, I began to wonder what I could do to help protect them from the next calamity. This morning, I went to work with the back seat full of plant trays.
I felt clever as I choose my parking and correct amount of window to leave down, but after coming back home and unloading them, I'm thinking it's more like the cleverness of a murderer who gets the brainspark to eat the evidence.
The latest from Fukushima is that it could be one hundred years until the fuel rods can be removed from the reactor. This of course depends on If. If those experts who are not there really know what they are talking about. If reporters are not looking for a worst case.
Keep in mind that when we talk about long term disasters connected to energy supply, a one hundred year wait for a fuel rod to cool just really isn't very long if you compare it to some of the thousands of burning coal coal seams and mines worldwide, some of which have been on fire continuously for hundreds of years. There are even a few which were ancient long before those bristlecone pines everyone is so excited about sprouted.
There are even coal fires in the United States. We have as many as two hundred, and a coal fire has led to the evacuation of the entire (sans a few old crusties) town of Centralia, Pennsylvania.
So if a worst case scenario happens, it shouldn't be poo-pooed, but it should be kept in perspective.
My bad. Go ahead and let everyone panic, then forget it like they always do.