Attack of the Clones! Soybean Aphids!

Be afraid!  Be very afraid! There are alien creatures crawling and flying amongst us.  They are creepy! They are weird! They are not like us. Many are green!  Their populations number in the billions.  They come in thousands of species! They do billions of dollars of agricultural and horticultural damage, eating their way through the foliage of our food supply and destroying the grace of our gardens.  AND MANY ARE CLONES!  They are APHIDS!

One tribe of these alien invaders is named Aphis glycine.

These are creatures from the beyond. Here's a portrait of a girl from the Aphis glycine tribe. I've not met her personally, but I'm pretty damn sure it's a girl.

I'm an anthropologist, and now I'm writing about soybean aphids?  What do I know from soybean aphids? I took two general biology courses, and "Bugs for Idiots" (Entomology for Non-Life Science Majors) as an undergraduate at Ohio State. That's it.  I'm a social scientist, I don't do biochem or calculus or any of that kind of stuff. Well, life is funny, and by funny twists I find myself  I working for an agricultural and extension entomologist at a large state university.  He studies economically important soybean and corn insects, as well as transgenic corn and soybean hybrids.  This summer he and his field crew have been studying several species of aphids, particularly soybean aphid, Aphis glycine.  I don't work in the field much, I generally do the literature reviews and data entry for the whole bunch of us, but I'm a desperately curious person. "Desperately" might seem like a strange adverb to use, but it fits me.  I just have to know, and have to understand  what's going on in my little world.  Thus, I had to know what this whole aphid thing was about.  So I hunted up all the extension websites I could find on soybean aphids.  Here's some good ones:  Iowa State, University of Minnesota, and University of Wisconsin.  And I asked questions. What I learned was bizarre.

Soybean aphids have a weird, other-worldly  reproductive cycle.  The most creative B-movie screen writer could not have come up with this scenario.  Here in the upper Midwest, farmers plant soybean starting in April. As the young plants emerge, soybean aphids migrate from buckthorn (an invasive bushy plant) and take up residence and start munching away on soybean leaves. These alien invaders then start reproducing.  This is what is weird:  all individuals are at this point are females and they reproduce by parthenogenesis. They are clones.  There's more: they give live birth to female clones of themselves that are already gravid, that is, they are born pregnant. Aphis glycine individuals give live birth to pregnant clones of themselves that are pregnant with pregnant clones of themselves .. Oh my. Very, very weird.

Most of the time, these creatures who are feasting on soybean and reproducing themselves do not have wings. At that point entomologists call them apterae (literally, "wingless").  Some individuals develop wings, and are then called alates.  The number of alates is directly associated with population. When the soybean neighborhood gets crowded, more alates emerge and migrate to more promising fields.

In the fall, winged males emerge along with winged females, and they fly off to buckthorn where sexual reproduction takes place.  I don't quite get the whole process here, and I can't find a good picture of a male aphid of any species.  But what I do understand is that soybean aphids overwinter on buckthorn, and apparently just hang about through the cold until it warms up and farmers oblige by planting more soybean.  To add another twist to this strange plot, in North America, buckthorn is an invasive species, having been brought to the upper Midwest in the mid 1800s as an ornamental hedge.

Soybean aphids must be from outer space.

My boss, Ken, indulges my curiosity.  I pester him with questions about insects, farming, and transgenic crops. A few days ago Ken drove me to an experimental soybean plot just off campus, and showed me how to scout for soybean aphids. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny with a light breeze, the kind of pleasant midsummer day more common in this northern part of the Midwest than the more humid south. We walked a few yards into the field, the soybean plants about thigh high to me. He reached down and pulled up a plant stem and showed me how to examine the leaves and stems for aphids, moving methodically from the roots to the tip, paying particular attention to the underside of the leaves and the tiny leaflets surrounding the small purple flowers that cling to the stems.  Aphis glycine individuals are excruciatingly small, and to the naked eye look like tiny pale green flecks. I had to use the bottom part of my bifocals. I counted 85 individuals on my first plant.  In heavier infestations, scouters count by groups of 100.

Twenty years ago when I was in graduate school, I never, ever thought that I'd some day be wading in a soybean field, pulling up plants, and squinting at aphids. I had other plans for myself.  But I've heard it said that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. Life is strange.  Aphid life is strange, and my life has been strange.  Here I am in the midst of the Great Recession; I am lucky to be working at all, and I am grateful for that.  I am grateful that my work is interesting. It provides me with abundant opportunities to learn and to be fascinated.  My world is richer, more three dimensional, now that I know a little something about the clones amongst us.

Kind of an after thought:  Aphids have lots of natural predators, including ladybugs. Here's a video of a ladybug making a meal of an aphid.

For the love of a dog

I have a dog.  Or should I say, she has me. My dog Laika is a 40-some pound long haired black mutt (with a few white patches thrown in), probably border collie mixed with something else. She's an American Fencejumper - comes from a long line of fence-jumping dogs (if you don't get the joke, I don't know what to tell you).  She's about six years old, but I don't know for sure.  I adopted her from the municipal pound in Leavenworth, Kansas, on December 30, 2004.   When I first saw her, she was in a 4x8 cage. The pound is located less than a mile from the famous federal penitentiary next to Ft Leavenworth, Kansas (now closed), so I  joke that I busted her out of the Big House.

I named Laika after the dog the Soviets put into space aboard Sputnik II, launched on November 3,1957, three weeks after the more famous Sputnik I. Laika (which means "Barker" in Russian), had the sad honor of being the first living creature to leave the earth for space.  I say sad, because she was in effect a casualty of the Cold War. We speak of animals making sacrifices for science, but that suggests the animals have a choice. The Soviets claimed the Sputnik II mission was about science, but Laika was sacrificed for geopolitical reasons. The Soviets originally claimed that the dog lived for days and was euthanized with poison food pellets. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, however,  the truth of the mission became public.  The dog died within hours.  Instrument readings showed that her heart rate and temperature increased rapidly after launching, leading me to believe that she literally was scared to death.  As reported by Moscowanimals.org,  a leading member of the Soviet Space Program's scientific team, Oleg Gazenko, stated (in 1998) "The more time passes, the more I'm sorry about it... We did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog."  To the left  and above is a photo of a mock up of the inside of Sputnik II.  

I'm not the only one moved by the story of Laika, and I'm sure that I'm not the only person to name her dog after this involuntary Cold Warrior.  After the launching of Sputnik II, Soviet Block countries issued commemorative stamps, bubble gum wrappers, and cigarette packages honoring the dog  (much of that was for internal political reasons, I'm sure). 

In 2008, the Russians unveiled a a memorial to Laika in the Space City, in what is now the Russian Federation. A number of videos commemorating Laika can be found on Youtube. This is my favorite.  It is in Spanish, which I speak a little, enough to understand.  


The story of Laika moves me to tears.  Why?  What is it about dogs?  Americans spend millions of dollars on dogs.  According to the Humane Society of America, there are nearly 80 million owned dogs in the US; 39% of American households include at least one dog.  Less than 20% are adopted or rescued dogs. Dog owners can buy health insurance for their dogs (personally, I think pet insurance should be taxed and the revenue used to support human health care needs.  But I digress).  So isn't that terribly American, reflecting all that is wrong with America, to lavish love on dogs rather than care for our economically and socially vulnerable neighbors?

For much of the world dogs are vermin, good only for cleaning offal off the streets.  In San Lucas Toliman, in Guatemala, I observed that dogs ran loose in packs. Dogs are not pets there,  they are not neutered or spayed, and are valued mostly as alarm systems.  When walking the dirt or cobbled streets of this town, one has to carry stones to keep dogs away. It is illegal in most American cities for dogs to run loose.


What must we look like to much of the rest of the world! For many Muslims and North Africans, dogs are gross, dirty, next to pigs. The idea of kissing a dog (I kiss my dog, I admit it), is just, well, that's simply disgusting. My city, Minneapolis, is home large population of Somali immigrants, almost all of whom are Muslim. An elderly Somali woman in my neighborhood takes long walks every day.  If I am walking with my dog and she sees us, she will cross to other side of the street, probably to avoid the vermin (vermin that may bite) I have at the end of a retractable leash.   I now take my dog across the street when I see her walking our way, her gown and hajib flowing.  This woman is my neighbor and my elder, and I can show my respect to her by not imposing my dog on her.  In fact, I believe that dog owners should not impose their dogs on anyone, whether in person, or in terms of what the dog may leave on a lawn.  My dog is taught to heel, and I clean up behind her.  What we do for love, eh?

What is it with dogs and Americans (I'll leave the Europeans and Japanese out, they have their own neuroses with dogs)?  Part of it is affluence. Starving people are not going to feed their dogs, much less dress them in silly sweaters, give them treats, train them to do stupid tricks, or enroll them in doggie day care.  They may eat their dogs, though.

Affluence is only part of it.  I am being unkind when I suggest that the American love of dogs is pathological.  Dogs play an important cultural role in the US, and dogs have been "man's best friend" for westerners for centuries. Films and novels  such as Old Yeller, Because of Winn Dixie, and of course, Lassie, are important part of our popular culture.

I think that part of the appeal of dogs is that interpersonal relationships, especially intimate ones, can be difficult for many Americans. Loneliness is common. About half of US marriages end in divorce.  I have heard more than one woman my age say that they have given up on romantic or intimate relationships with men, and now prefer to turn to their dogs for companionship. One friend told me that "your dog will never leave you."  For a single woman living alone, a dog can be a source of protection as well as companionship.  Statistics released in June by the Pew Research Center's Social and Demographic Trends Project indicate that 20% of American women in their forties are childless by choice, a profound demographic change. I am one of that number, in my forties and childless.  Childlessness has its advantages, but it is also a loss, at least for me. I will never know the joy, pleasure, pain, and challenge of loving another human being the way my parents loved. me. They are not enough to fill the hole, but dogs are creatures that respond positively to care and nurture.




It seems rather sad and pathetic.  Is it true that many people of the most powerful nation in the world have such difficulties connecting to other human beings that they give up and turn to their dogs?  I don't know. It's not all bad,though.  Dogs can be bridges between strangers - more than one man has gotten himself a puppy as a "chick magnet."  Dogs provide support and assistance to people with disabilities, including psychiatric disabilities, allowing those individuals to lead more independent lives.


Laika the Cosmomutt (one of her nicknames) brings me great pleasure and I won't part with her. In difficult times, the fact that she is dependent upon me for her wellbeing has gotten me out of bed and into the world.  I don't know if dogs are capable of love as we humans understand it, but they certainly are capable of attachment, and she is attached to me.  She is so delighted when I come home she can hardly restrain herself from dancing around, and yes, I'll admit, that's an ego boost. She gives and takes affection freely.   I'd miss her dearly if I were to lose her.

Silly, shallow, and childish, I know. Why I post cute things to Facebook

Forgive me.  I am a 49 year old overeducated woman who should know better, but I love cute things. I find them on the Internet, and I post them to my Facebook page.  For someone of my years and education, I should know better. I shouldn't even be playing around on Facebook. If you're reading this, you've probably lost all respect for me (given the course of my life and my trashed career, I may have had little respect left to lose as it is. Oh well).  I once was a serious scholar.  I wrote a serious dissertation, two respectable masters theses, have published several peer reviewed papers, presented my research at professional conferences, and have reviewed a number of  scholarly books.  Yet, I love cute things, and I post pictures and videos of kittens, puppies, and babies to my Facebook page.  Maybe I should be shot? I dunno. It's harmless, though.

Let me explain why I engage in this immature behavior. I have a serious but quite controllable chronic health condition. Most of the time I am fine, thank you very much.  But two years ago, I was in the throes of a severe flare, I was unemployed, I was seriously depressed, and my anxiety level was so high the world felt unreal.  I also had a leg injury that restricted my mobility.  In short, life was pretty distressing.  I was, and am, fortunate to have access to excellent health care through the VA (that's a subject for another post).  In addition to treatment and medications, my providers suggested I find ways to soothe and distract myself.  I turned to Youtube and found videos of laughing babies. It helped, it really helped. I find it impossible not to laugh while watching a baby laugh. And aren't babies about life and hope? My favorite laughing baby videos are Ethan Laughing and Evil eye baby.  Joy is infectious.

I was unemployed for a long time.  Last year, a friend of mine made a job for me.  No benefits, but a great wage. Unfortunately, the job is temporary, and as the end date approaches, I find myself increasingly anxious about the future.  Given the high level of unemployment, I don't know if I will be able to find another job.  I have good health care, but what will the coming Deficit Hawk Congress do to the VA budget?  I fear being a burden on my family.  What is more, the shame and frustration of unemployment is not something I want to experience again.  I read too much Paul Krugman.  And with the acrimony of the US political arena, political candidates hinting at political violence, an American Chernobyl unfolding in the Gulf of Mexico, the highest unemployment rate since the 1930s, and two endless, wasteful, useless wars, I started posting distressing news and links to Facebook in a mistaken attempt to deal with my anger and anxiety.  Didn't work, and it annoyed my friends.

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) helps people develop skills to deal with emotional distress.  One such skill is called "opposite action."  When one feels a negative emotion, or the desire to engage in a problematic behavior, one can counter that by purposefully acting in the opposite manner.  So now when  I get distressed by something I read or hear on the news, I post something cute to Facebook. Or I go to a site on the Internet and just look.  I know it's a very 12-year-old girl thing to do, but I hope my readers (if there are any) will forgive me.  My favorite site is Cute Overload.  That's where I found the the picture of the Corgi puppy on the right.  (Corgi's are cute even when they are grown up). Famous and fun as well are the LOL Cats at Icanhascheezburger.com

I'm not alone in this idiotic and obnoxious silly and inane behavior.  The video of baby Ethan laughing was posted to Youtube 3 years ago, and has had more than 30 million hits.  Today I was inspired to write this post when cuteoverload.com posted a link to this this little essay by CNN technology blogger Damon Brown.  Brown writes:

"[O]ur obsession with cute animals is a welcome respite from chaotic modern life. Back in the day, cat posters and Stupid Pet Tricks took our minds off Vietnam, the arms race and gas shortages. Today, sites such as Cute Overload or I Can Has Cheezburger offer a sunny break from terrorism, Afghanistan and the Gulf oil spill."

 

I do have my limits.  No cartoons. My cuteness has come from photographs and videos of real cute things (okay, as real as possible in these days of video editing and Photoshop). No geese or sheep with ribbons.  No unicorns, princesses, or rainbows.  No big weepy eyes.  And definitely NO DISNEY!

Okay, so now for the obligatory social theory comment.  Are cuteness sites on the Interwebz (as the LOL cats put it) embedded in the consumer-oriented capitalist system?  Yes, absolutely.  They make money on advertising.  Go to any cute site or blog and you will be overloaded with ads as well as cuteness.  But hey, if I had an audience, I'd sell advertising on my blog.  Money is a way to soothe oneself as well.

I have real life cuteness, too, my mutt Laika.  And I was pretty cute once, myself.

P.S.  For a good example of the combination of contemporary internet culture, capitalism, and cuteness, you can't beat this viral video ad for a local creamery:  Tiny Kitten in Tiny Hat Eating a Tiny Ice Cream Cone