It's not often human witness the passing of a species. The simple odds of probability are against it. But today, scientists are fairly sure they have indeed witnessed the final moments of a species, just as they did in 1914 when the last passenger pigeon died, or in 2012, when Lonesome George, the last Pinta Island giant tortoise died. This time, the species in question was the Rabb's fringe-limbed tree frog. Last seen in the wild in 2007, a single male fringe-limbed tree frog nicknamed "Toughie" was retained in the Atlanta Botanical Garden, until his death this morning.
The reason for the frog's likely extinction is the spread of chytridomycosis, a disease caused by a fungus that grows parasitically on frogs and other amphibians. Originally confined to the tropics, chytridomycosis has spread around the world and made dozens of species of amphibians extinct, or nearly so. The reason for its spread is thought to be global warming due to greenhouse gases put into the atmosphere by humans, which create a more benign environment for the fungus.
Other species affected by chytridomycosis, which may or may not be extinct, include the Australian gastric brooding frog, the spiny-kneed leaf frog, and the golden toad. All of these lived in tropical regions where global warming made chytrid fungus even more widespread than it already was.
Chytridomycosis attacks its victims by clogging the pores in their skin. Since most amphibians breathe through the skin (few have lungs), this results in death from lack of oxygen.
If there is a silver lining to any of this, it is that perhaps the Rabb's fringe-limbed tree frog may not be extinct forever. Cloning technology has already been tested on another type of frog, the African clawed fro, and viable embryos have been created. Perhaps one day, one genetic engineering has matured enough, the Rabb's fringe-limbed tree frog will make a comeback.
Friday, September 30, 2016
Friday, September 2, 2016
Eco-tainment #12: Godzilla vs Hedorah
Everyone is familiar with the character of Godzilla, if mostly through satire and parody at this point. Its story has been told multiple times in dozens of movies-- nuclear testing in the Pacific ocean awakens a gigantic reptilian beast that proceeds to destroy Tokyo and other cities and later becomes involved in fights with other monsters. It seems a rather odd vehicle for an environmental message, but therein lies a tale.
During the 1950s and 1960s, Japan quickly rebuilt its economy after it was destroyed during the Second World War, eventually becoming the second-largest economy in the world. This economic growth occurred at breakneck speed, and naturally, there were consequences. The city of Yokkaichi became exposed to toxic levels of sulfur oxide, resulting in thousands of people becoming ill. This was one of many incidents that fed into the general growing trend of environmental awareness in the 1960s, and ultimately inspired Godzilla vs Hedorah.
The titular Hedorah is an alien micro-organism transported to earth on a meteorite, which then grows into a colossal sludge-like monster upon being exposed to the polluted air and water of Earth. By the climax of the film it has become a skyscraper-sized mound of toxic ooze and is more than capable of putting up a fight against Godzilla, something few other monsters in the entire series accomplish.
The fear that polluting the earth's ecosystems will create monsters--whether literal or metaphorical--is a pervasive one in environmental fiction. Indeed, it seems to be common practice in such stories to do away with the complexities of real environmentalism and reduce the antagonists to one-dimensional "monsters" whose sole reason for being is to pollute the earth. Obviously, including such complex aspects in the movie would have made it far less enjoyable.
This, in turn, brings up an important point about what using monsters like Godzilla and Hedorah to represent real-life problems says about us psychologically: We want monsters to be real, so our problems will have an obvious source.
Movies like Godzilla vs Hedorah may be entertaining, but real-world issues are reduced to the complexity--and subtlety-- of rubber-suit monsters stomping on miniature sets.
During the 1950s and 1960s, Japan quickly rebuilt its economy after it was destroyed during the Second World War, eventually becoming the second-largest economy in the world. This economic growth occurred at breakneck speed, and naturally, there were consequences. The city of Yokkaichi became exposed to toxic levels of sulfur oxide, resulting in thousands of people becoming ill. This was one of many incidents that fed into the general growing trend of environmental awareness in the 1960s, and ultimately inspired Godzilla vs Hedorah.
The titular Hedorah is an alien micro-organism transported to earth on a meteorite, which then grows into a colossal sludge-like monster upon being exposed to the polluted air and water of Earth. By the climax of the film it has become a skyscraper-sized mound of toxic ooze and is more than capable of putting up a fight against Godzilla, something few other monsters in the entire series accomplish.
The fear that polluting the earth's ecosystems will create monsters--whether literal or metaphorical--is a pervasive one in environmental fiction. Indeed, it seems to be common practice in such stories to do away with the complexities of real environmentalism and reduce the antagonists to one-dimensional "monsters" whose sole reason for being is to pollute the earth. Obviously, including such complex aspects in the movie would have made it far less enjoyable.
This, in turn, brings up an important point about what using monsters like Godzilla and Hedorah to represent real-life problems says about us psychologically: We want monsters to be real, so our problems will have an obvious source.
Movies like Godzilla vs Hedorah may be entertaining, but real-world issues are reduced to the complexity--and subtlety-- of rubber-suit monsters stomping on miniature sets.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)