A recent study has sparked another connection in the keen communication skills of nature’s sweetest partnership – the bee and the bloom – and get this, it’s ELECTRIC! Most of us already know that bees can sense a flower’s nectar through fragrance (that’s a given), and that they can harness the ultraviolet spectrum to find patterns on flowers that we human folk can’t see (so rad), but the discovery that flowers use their electric charge (flowers have an electric charge?!) to attract bees is absolutely SHOCKING!
See what all the buzz buzz is about by clicking the link beelow 🙂
When I was younger I loved playing detective and was fascinated with the various gizmos my favorite artoon characters used to solve crimes. Inspector Gadget was a brilliant amalgam of both. I wasn’t so much interested in his hat-copter, or even his finger tip skeleton key, but more so with his niece Penny’s computer book and communicator watch. I probably asked Santa for a computer book four Christmases in a row, imagining a geek squad of elves could make it happen. Sadly, it didn’t, and since late 80s, early 90s mechanization wasn’t up to par with the animated world, I improvised . . . with the Bible. I penciled radars and dials throughout Revelations and crayoned multicolored buttons all over Leviticus. Despite my utter devotion to the digital tome and all its features, the communicator watch that Penny used to contact her best pal and humanoid pooch, Brain, remained my personal favorite. Fortunately, I had a great representation in the form of a digital Super Mario Bros. game watch. It beeped, it blinked, it was next to perfect. Every trip to Kmart or Food Lion with my parents became an Inspector Gadget case where Dr. Claw manned all the cameras in the store, and I could be seen (or not) between racks of Jordache acid wash jeans and Lay’s potato chip displays whispering to a cartoon dog through my watch.
Now, twenty years later, THE FUTURE IS HERE, and cartoon fantasy has become reality through the innovations and technological advances of companies like Microsoft, Google, Facebook and Apple. The Apple iPad was the first tablet computer to gain real commercial success upon its release in 2010. That’s when I realized that a tool once powered only by my imagination had come to life. Here was Penny’s computer book — slim, mobile, adept — tangible. As if that wasn’t enough to perk up my inner-child, rumors have been swirling about an iWatch prototype. WHAT?! Uh huh, Penny’s communication device could soon be within my wrist’s grasp, that is, if Apple decides to go forward with development. Reports say the iWatch will be wound with iOS, the same operating system as the iPhone, iPad and iPod. Suffice it to say, if there were a re-boot of Inspector Gadget, Penny could very well chat with Brain via Face Time. My only query is if kids today would even consider utilizing these high tech inventions to expand what only my imagination could conjure once upon a time, or if they would simply be sidetracked by games like Fruit Ninja and Angry Birds Space. Wowsers!
(not my wrists)
After months of success in the box office, and recent wins at the Golden Globes and Screen Actors Guild Awards (snagging best directer and best cast), I finally decided to see “Argo,” Ben Affleck’s third film as director and second film starring himself and co-starring his rockin’ abs. Unlike their wicked-hot sculpted, sweat glistening debut in, “The Town,” it’s Affleck’s abs’ delightfully hairy performance in “Argo” that rockets the audience into the 70s time period and clearly overshadows countless butterfly collars, chevron mustaches, and that one banana-colored Pontiac Trans Am on the freeway. Although appearing in a mirror for mere seconds, Affleck’s abs are, in totality, a testament to the science fiction aspect of the movie. HUH? you say. What about Iran? The rescue mission? The fake Hollywood script? No. If you saw the movie, you also witnessed the horrible, fatty-fat carb-o-loaded fast food diet Affleck adopted after a split with his old lady — the Chinese take-out boxes lining his hotel bed, that McDonald’s Quarter Pounder with Cheese he wolfed down while on the phone with his son — If those hard, but gently rolling fur mounds aren’t proof that aliens were somehow involved in his workout-less lifestyle, I don’t know what else to tell you. What I can confess is that while the film’s core performance didn’t inspire me to go crunch crazy, the wonderfully punny signature line, “Argo fuck yourself,” was a great piece of instructional advice — I have the hairy palms to prove it.