Wild goats in northern Italy are defying gravity on the face of the Cingino Dam. These animals are actually called Alpine Ibex, though one online account falsely labeled them Bighorn Sheep and magically transported the dam from the Alps to Montana.

That’s the internet for you, where any half-truth can make it around the world if it has shock value, plausibility and a certain wacky appeal. I’m inclined to call them Goat Flies and to claim they are sunning themselves on the south wall of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. We’ll see how far that goes.

Regardless of the details, it is remarkable to see animals with such a casual approach to verticality. They appear to be licking the surface of the structure, and some accounts suppose that it is a mineral, probably salt, that attracts them. At any rate, Alpine Ibex are very much unlike Trail Babooners, who suffer from fear of heights, fear of THINKING about heights, and extreme squeamishness when it comes to watching YouTube videos about mammals climbing things.

This video will simultaneously terrorize you if you have acrophobia, and soothe you if you enjoy the sound of 1,000 melodramatic, artificial strings.

Alpine Ibex mom to Alpine Ibex youth: “Just because all the other kids go climbing on the Cingino Dam, that doesn’t mean YOU have to do it too!”

Ever accept a dare that you wish you hadn’t?

One of my childhood flights of fancy when mom took us to the drive-up teller window was that I could climb into the tiny shuttle and ride it through the pneumatic tube from our car into the bank. Tight fit. Fun trip. It was the sort of ridiculous thing a kid imagines that would not be fun at all in reality, but that’s what crossed my mind watching Chilean miners climb into a narrow capsule to be pulled 2,000 feet through an angled tube to the surface.

The rescue will go on, without complications or setbacks we hope, for the next day or so. It makes surprisingly good television, bringing together all the key elements – danger, tension, suspense, success, joy, tearful hugging, repeat. With lots of time along the way for a message from our sponsors. There are cameras at either end of the journey and a single prominent wheel atop the hoisting structure that we can watch as it reels in the cable that’s attached to the rescue capsule. Keep an eye on that gizmo, an airy multi-spoked contraption reminiscent of Gandhi’s symbolic spinning wheel. It will wind up in a museum someday.

When we talked about this unfolding dilemma back in August, our shared wish was that the ending would be happy enough to trigger a cheesy disaster movie, ala “The Poseidon Adventure”, or perhaps some new kind of surrealist stage play. “Waiting for Gondola”, anyone? I suspect there will be a slew of paintings, sculptures and YouTube mash-ups, not to mention the books, possibly one from each of the 33 miners. If this were happening in the USA, the rescued men would need a publicity agency to manage their opportunities and to keep them out of trouble with an aggressive press that is voracious for details, positive or otherwise.

You’ve been underground with 32 co-workers for well over two months. Now that you’re on the surface and are a national hero with a world press that has seemingly unlimited interest in your personal life, where do you draw the boundaries?

Many thanks to the Trail Baboon guest bloggers for giving me a week-long blog holiday. Steve, Jacque, Anna, Barbara, Renee, Donna and tim took the lead while I spent a few days not thinking about, reading or even glancing at the blog. It was a carefree respite because I knew things were in good hands and it was a nice break from the routine. But I also missed the conversation and the many pleasures of being part of a friendly congress of baboons, so I’m equally delighted to be back. It will take me a few days to read through all your comments on the previous entries, but I aim to catch up!

While I was not paying attention, the following missive arrived from our good friend Bubby Spamden.

Hey Mr. C.,

I know we’re supposed to be concentrating on our schoolwork, but the sophomores here at Wendell Wilkie High School are really distracted by the news that Google has been secretly testing a fleet of 7 cars that can drive themselves. The cars have gone over 140 thousand accident free miles with minimal human intervention, which is a lot better than 7 high school sophomores can do.

Some adults think this is a great idea, but me and my friends, we’re kinda ticked off.

If you don’t get that, think of it this way – you’re just about old enough to get your license and your mom goes, “You know what honey? I think I’ll just quit my job and be your chauffeur. For the rest of your life. OK?”

Weird, huh? I actually know a kid whose mom said that.

Speaking for all the almost-16 year olds, we haven’t really known a world that didn’t have Google in it. And Google has kind of been a mom and dad for us, because whenever we want to know something, that’s who we ask. We figured out a long time ago that our biological mom and dad are kinda clueless about most everything.

And now mom is hanging on to the car keys? No thanks!

Some of my smarter friends also figured out that there’s nothing you can do online that isn’t remembered and noticed. Getting control of the car meant maybe we could finally go somewhere and do something where some body wouldn’t be looking over our shoulder. But now with Google behind the wheel, every trip will be part of our history of sites visited. Drat!

And what’s worse, the cars have cameras in them. Double drat!

We have to do something to stop this project! Without car-key based freedoms, my generation will have no reason to work or even to move out of the house. That means there’ll be no incentive to apply for all the non-existent jobs. And if we’re not working, who will fund the social security payments that you and all your old bloggers are counting on? Try to see it our way. This is an emergency!

Where you see a safety advance, we see the complete and total loss of any chance that we might actually have fun someday.

Anyway, I’m hoping you and your blog people can be on our side in this one. Speak out! Defend our youthful autonomy, rather than giving in to this scary auto tyranny by Google.

Your pal,
Bubby.

I told Bubby I couldn’t agree with him completely. For one thing, youthful indiscretions are overrated. And as a person who, as a 16 year old, totaled my father’s prize Corvair, I can’t argue that teenage driving skills are more reliable than a computer. Still, I don’t think the Google car project will ever be a realistic threat to Bubby’s freedom. Liability concerns will slow widespread adoption of the technology, and although it looks promising in these early stages, how many times have you started surfing on the internet with a clear destination in mind only to wind up a million miles away from where you thought you were headed? How will that tendency translate to a cross country trip, a Thanksgiving jaunt to Grandma’s house, or even a “quick” trip to the store? I’m not all that excited about climbing into my Googlemobile and clicking “I’m feeling lucky.”

Would you let a computer drive the car?

The news that the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life conducted a survey and found that Americans are woefully uninformed about religion is not really news. Not to me, anyway. Whenever I want to find out what Americans know about anything, I conduct my survey of one, quizzing the only American who can’t ignore or refuse my demand for answers – Me.

And when I ask myself what I know, I never fail to be amazed at how clueless American are.

I took a short version of the survey and had just one wrong answer, but that was after I had read 2 full articles about the results that recounted in breathless detail the remarkably wrong choices other people had made. Yes, most of the questions are multiple choice.

But the survey is flawed anyway.

In the first place, it is only a survey of people who –

Will answer the phone even though caller ID says “Pew Forum”
Will agree to participate in a survey
When told, “it’s about religion,” will stay on the line.

This is a very small and distinguished group of Americans.

Plus, the questions are clearly lacking the one thing Americans need to enjoy a good survey – joke answers that can be chosen to distract from the disturbing truth that I don’t know the right answer.

Here are a few from the survey that I’ve taken the liberty to improve.

Which Bible figure is most closely associated with leading the Exodus from Egypt?
Job
Elijah
Moses
Abraham
Charlton Heston

Which of the following is NOT one of the Ten Commandments?
Do not commit adultery
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you
Do not steal
Keep the Sabbath holy
Thou Shalt Not Ask Trick Questions.

When does the Jewish Sabbath begin?
Friday
Saturday
Sunday
Exactly seven days after the last one.

Is Ramadan…?
The Hindu festival of lights
A Jewish day of atonement
The Islamic holy month
A Rama Lama Ding Dong.

Which of the following best describes the Catholic teaching about the bread and wine used for Communion?
The bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
The bread and wine are symbols of the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
It’s not the bread or wine, it’s the cheese that will really turn on you.

In which religion are Vishnu and Shiva central figures?
Islam
Hinduism
Taoism
Unitarianism

According to rulings by the U.S. Supreme Court, is a public school teacher permitted to lead a class in prayer, or not?
Yes, permitted
No, not permitted
Yes, but only if she has a megaphone so they can hear her in the back row of the auditorium.

And the one essay question was a stumper.
What was Mother Teresa’s religion?
All I know about Mother Teresa is that she did everything she could to help desperately poor people. A person like that probably doesn’t have a lot of time for religion.

Even the New York Times struggled with this one. In their first online report, they spelled Mother T.’s name wrong.

Every so often there is a new survey that reveals how surprisingly little we the people know about (fill in the topic). In case you didn’t glean it from everything I’ve said so far, my self-esteem is a little damaged by this latest one. What I really want is a survey that we can all succeed at, so I can start to feel better about ourself.

But what topic would allow us to hit one out of the park?
Grammar?
Music?
Sports?
Snack Food?

How can we begin to feel smart again?

It has been a while since we’ve heard from him, but yesterday’s discussion about vegetables led to this response from the produce manager at Genway, the supermarket for genetically engineered foods.

Hello!

I’m delighted with the conversations I read on your blog! I find I am able to pick up wonderful ideas that turn into fantastic new developments in our food laboratory.

Just yesterday a person named Jacque called Kohlrabi a “crustaceous” vegetable. Then she back tracked and said she had mistakenly called the plant a lobster. But I don’t believe in “mistakes”! In my world, “mistakes” are scientific advances that happen while your back is turned and you’re thinking of something else. And believe me, I’m ALWAYS thinking of something else.

I got right to work trying to make Jacque’s dream come true! I already have a full library of GIANT aquatic arthropod DNA, so that wasn’t a problem, but finding kohlrabi was a bit tougher. I’m not a big fan of vegetables, which is odd for a supermarket produce manager, but if you spent all day around them you’d feel that way too, believe me.
Carrots are smug!

My research expedition to the Farmer’s Market was an eye opener. There are plenty of weird creations over there, almost as strange as the stuff in our store. Like eggplant! I believe eggplant is a spore from outer space, but that’s a different product and another story.

I located the kohlrabi and was immediately impressed with the vegetable’s wild attitude and tough outside cover, which does have a lobster-like stubbornness. I purchased a sample and brought it back to the lab. As night fell, everything was in readiness. Our projects draw a lot of electricity from the grid, so timing is crucial. Once North Dakota went to bed at 9pm, I was able to throw the switch and within minutes, Genway had a new product – Crayfish Kohlrabi!

It’s a vegetable with “SNAP”!

With Genway’s Crayfish Kohrabi, nobody can say vegetables are for wimps. They’re delicious when properly prepared, but be careful when you put your arm in the tank to take one out. These babies will fight back, and if they get a hold of you, they’ll hang on!

The story Jacque told about stealing some kohlrabi from the garden and running off into the cornfield to eat it raw with a little salt might also a good technique for dining on Genway’s Crayfish Kohlrabi … if you’re writing a scene from a horror movie!

Because these VegAnimals are genetically engineered, we don’t have a clear idea of the full range of their enhanced capabilities. In the secluded area between the rows of corn, their animated pincers might find the energy and the inspiration to make a tossed salad out of you! So be sure to take a buddy! And pictures! I can’t wait to find out what this new product can do!

Giant Crayfish Kohlrabi – new from Genway, the supermarket for genetically engineered foods!

Are you an adventurous eater?

Just as I was finishing up a nice, nutritious article about how we Americans do not listen when we are told to eat our vegetables, a note arrived from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hi Mr. C.,

You know I wouldn’t be writing unless I need help finishing some homework. But here’s the good news – it isn’t due today! I was supposed to hand it in last Friday but I was out sick. Usually you have to turn in your sick day assignments first thing on the next day you’re at school, but this is for health class and the teacher, Ms. Scrubmaven, made a big deal last week about how bacteria can live on paper money for weeks! Since I did my work ON paper, I told her I made the difficult choice to burn it last Saturday morning, and I would take an F if she had to give me one, but I was at peace with my decision because it probably protected her and the class from getting whatever miserable disease I had. And no, it wasn’t Friday-itis! She was so grateful, she gave me a week to re-write it.

So anyway, the paper is supposed to be about new ideas to convince us teenagers to eat more fruits and especially more vegetables. Everybody’s all worked up about getting us to eat healthy stuff all the time. These papers are going to be bound into a book and sent to the White House, so there’s no getting out of it. I think Ms. Scrubmaven has a fantasy where Michele Obama comes to Wendell Wilkie High School and helps us plant a victory garden.

Some high schools are getting vegetable vending machines and their halls are full of reporters and local TV news crews doing stories about it. And of course all the publicity hogs are crowding around so they can get on TV for buying a bag of carrots. It’s good for sales on the first day, I guess.

And then there’s a TV campaign on which the adults think is just dopey enough to convince us that tiny carrots are as good as Doritos. Ha. Nice try. They must think we’re easy to fool.

Anyway, I’m supposed to write about some old fashioned ways parents used to get their kids to eat vegetables, and whether or not any of those ideas would work today. I know you and your people are pretty ancient, and maybe you can remember what your parents did to convince you that you should eat good food instead of the junk you really wanted.

If not, you could always make stuff up. Ms. Scrubmaven isn’t going to check up on it, especially if the stories are good enough to get Executive Attention, if you know what I mean.

Sincerely,
Bubby

I told Bubby I don’t remember being forced to eat vegetables or even encouraged to do so, but I do recall that when mashed potatoes were served they were always dotted with green beans. My mom called it “Grasshoppers Caught in an Avalanche”.

How were you encouraged to eat vegetables? Did it work?

Even on the worst days of my broadcasting career I sat in an ergonomic chair in a climate controlled, soundproof room, pushing buttons and playing records. This cushy deal gave me a skewed notion of what it means to work hard, and no concept at all of what it is to take real risks.

For me, “Hazardous Working Conditions” meant we were out of free coffee.

Occasionally I would lean back in the chair while listening to a record and would picture the path the music took – flowing out of the CD player through the mixing board, surging out of the building to the base of the transmitting tower, racing 1,500 feet to the top, and squirting out an invisible fountain of music, spraying the unsuspecting city with the sound of bagpipes playing the Theme From The Magnificent 7.

“What does it look like from up there,” I wondered. And “who goes up there to change the light bulb?”

These guys do.

If you can’t watch for technical reasons or won’t watch for due to height sensitivity or just plain wanting to keep your sanity, I’ll tell you it’s a stomach-churner. Nothing bad happens but the tower does get narrower and the ladder smaller and smaller as they near the top. Imagine standing on a dinner plate 1,700 feet above ground and you’ve got the basic idea.

Uncomfortable with heights? You’re not alone.

Last year a Bengal tiger at a zoo in England made the news for his reluctance to climb off a 15 foot high platform. Hunger and a tasty pig’s head left at ground level eventually convinced him to come down after two days of pacing and worrying.

This year they say Tanvir the Tiger is able to go up and down the tower without a problem, pig’s head or no.

Ever conquer a phobia?

The introduction of a full body scanner at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport has drawn interest from travelers concerned about check-in delays and privacy advocates worried about a new level of unwelcome scrutiny, but to dealmaker and idea man Spin Williams, it’s a great opportunity.

Americans love attention!

I know a lot of them say they don’t, but really – they do! Once you understand that simple fact, everything else becomes clear. I’ve heard people worry that an unseen screener will laugh at their odd bulges, but I believe my fellow citizens hate being ignored even more than they resent being mocked, and basically most people are OK with a full body scan at the airport. And who among us is physically perfect, anyway? The chances are good that no matter how bad you think you look, the next person to step into the box probably looks worse.

And besides, the images I’ve seen make everyone look like the Silver Surfer, who was one of my favorite comic book heroes!

But if you happen to be one of the rare attention-haters out there, safeguards are in place. The software automatically blurs your face so the screener can’t pick you out of the line and laugh at you directly. AND, the machine erases your full body image completely just as soon as you are cleared as a security risk. That’s where I think a great opportunity is being literally thrown away!

Here’s my BIG idea to make it all work out fine.
Sell the images to their owners as a keepsake.

Why not? Look at Facebook – people there are letting it all hang out every day. And wouldn’t you like to own a full set of naked portraits of yourself with your arms over your head? Standardize the angle and the distances from camera to subject in every booth, and you could use multiple images taken at different airports to track changes in your shape and weight – a federally subsidized fitness program that would inspire millions to skip that candy bar until after they pass through the screening.

And with a little digital manipulation, you could easily insert your TSA full body scan into a greeting of some sort. How about Christmas cards!
Here’s a mock-up!

After all, there is nothing we find more interesting than ourselves, and this is a photo taken during a memorable experience that can be discussed for years if it is properly packaged and celebrated. So TSA, take a hint from Disney World. Sell people their full body scans at the airport!

From the Meeting That Never Ends,
Spin Williams

I wrote back to Spin to suggest that he needs to proofread his mock-up greeting card. But he might be on to something here. I have several arms-over-head, open-mouthed screaming-in-fear amusement park photographs that I paid way too much for, but they do a good job of capturing a moment in time.

At the end of the ride, do you buy the photo?

Just in time for your unique Halloween costume planning needs, two brand new dinosaurs have been introduced, and though they’ve been dead for millions of years, they’re just right for our times. Want to dress as one? Get a hat and pile it high with as many spiky protrusions as you can find and you’ll be close enough.

Utahceratops and Kosmoceratops are baroque boneheads with plenty of skull bling.
Each ancient cranium is full of enough distracting and extraneous ornamentation to qualify as a vocal solo on Glee! The purpose of all the skeletal action – to attract potential mates. It seems that some amorous dinos found their thrills in bony frills above the neck and shoulders.

Utahceratops and Kosmoceratops come from the same family of beasts that gave us our beloved Triceratops, a kid-favorite fossil “brand” that just merged with the relatively unknown but equally hornful Torosaurus.

But here’s the part that surprised me – they lived during the late Cretaceous period, an age when the western part of North America was separated from the east by a body of water named the Western Interior Seaway, or the Niobraran Sea, though of course no creature alive at the time called it that. I believe they dubbed it “GHRRRRROOOOOGHGGGGGGGG”.

What we think of as the Rocky Mountains today was a separate continent, which had no name at the time but is now called “Laramidia”. If climate change continues to melt the polar ice and sea levels rise high enough, our descendants could become the new Laramidians. No doubt they would need a fancy sounding anthem for this intensely vertical, suddenly prairie-less land.

Laramidia hail to thee!
Hail to thy great mountains high.
Hail to thy uplifted hills.
Hail to thy thin-layered sky.

From thy summits to the sea,
From thy peaks straight down to foam,
Thou art vertical indeed.
Laramidia, my home.

Thou has not a grain of wheat
Nor a field that’s ripe with corn.
Nothing flat, as you can see.
Only dinosaurs, with horns.

Laramidia, be strong.
Laramidia, be tall.
If thou walks abroad at night,
Laramidia, don’t fall.

Thou art nought but up and down.
Thy terrain do we extol.
When we tumble we make straight
Unto the waves. That’s how we roll.

Do you know the words to any national anthems other than the good ol’ USA’s?