African village toys (https://www.flickr.com/photos/quinet/29571682152/) CC-by-2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)
Anthropology is not a subject many kids get a lot of direct exposure to, though they may learn about it indirectly through other subjects. However, if you’ve got a kid interested in anthropology, the American Museum of Natural History has a great section on anthropology geared toward kids. There are all sorts of cool projects, games, and hands-on activities!
We’ve found a couple of awesome projects currently funding on Kickstarter that we thought our readers might be interested in!
The first is Box of Bones, “a supernatural nightmare tour through some of the most violent and horrific episodes in the African Diaspora.” Also hailed as “Tales from the Crypt Meets Black History,” this comic series follows an African American grad student researching a mysterious box. The Kickstarter for this comic ends March 11th, so check it out soon!
The other project is Mary Shelley Presents in a trade paperback format. The premise is comic adaptations of stories by Victorian women authors, framed with an introduction by Mary Shelley and her creation from Frankenstein. The stories are horror and dark fantasy, and the trade paperback collects the three already existing comics plus a fourth, double-length comic. This Kickstarter also ends on March 11th!
Statue of Xochipilli (From the National Museum of Anthropology, Mexico City) (https://www.flickr.com/photos/antonystanley/2105549511/) CC-by-sa-2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)
If you enjoyed Monday’s story, here are some more stories about mad anthropology!
“The Origin of Stenches” by Isaac Teile (goblin anthropology) (available in MSJ Autumn 2017)
“A Brief History of the Human Colonization of Mars” by H. E. Bergeron (human society on Mars) (available in MSJ Summer 2017)
“Jack the Giant-Killer: A Species Traitor?” by Dave D’Alessio (giant anthropology) (available in MSJ Autumn 2015)
“The Assembly of Equals” by David Taub Bancroft (primate anthropology) (available in MSJ Winter 2013)
An essay by The Mysterious Rumble Purr, as provided by Princess Rain E. Day
Art by Luke Spooner
The training and development of human staff can be one of the most difficult yet rewarding tasks assigned to the average feline. The species, self-identified as Homo sapiens, is remarkable in that it has developed complex communities, advanced means of travel and limited orbital escape, and something called tacos. Unfortunately, it also has poorly developed communication skills, which appear to be deteriorating rapidly. Particularly at risk are direct communications and complex thoughts that cannot be explained via emoji.
I have previously hypothesized that humans can be trained with extensive patience and positive reinforcement. This report will cover a longitudinal study lasting, at this point, 12 years, and will discuss the successes and failures of the training regime.
We will begin with a discussion of the human communication limitations and will further address these in our conclusions regarding the success of the project. At no time were any human unduly harmed in this undertaking, thought claw- and fang-based correction were applied as needed. It is further theorized that the overall mental well-being of the humans may be greatly improved as a result of our efforts. Furthermore, we must caution that replication of this experiment may be difficult given that indications are each human suffers from a unique “personality” and varying intelligence level which may significantly impact the test results.
As noted earlier, each human has individual quirks and requirements in their training process.
To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Winter 2020 collection.
The Mysterious Rumble Purr is the secret identity of an American short-hair torbie (not me, I swear it!), living in the Mid-Atlantic. Purr is originally from the Midwest, but moved her human staff east and north looking for a cooler climate. She is fond of tuna from a pouch and ice cream, preferably caramel. When not training humans, she is an organizer in the Feral Cat Union, attempting to help every kitten find its own people. She hopes to try her training techniques next on a canine, but has been unable to train her people to get her a puppy.
Princess Rain E. Day rules a small kingdom in Oaks, Pennsylvania. She is fond of naps, brushing, and chin bumps. She is opposed to the outdoors, her nemesis–black kitty who deigns to set foot in her kingdom–and children. She’s been known to hiss her displeasure at human females who choose to reproduce. Her hobbies include basking in the sun, pouncing her mousey, and guarding the house. This is her first publication.
Luke Spooner, a.k.a. ‘Carrion House,’ currently lives and works in the South of England. Having recently graduated from the University of Portsmouth with a first class degree, he is now a full time illustrator for just about any project that piques his interest. Despite regular forays into children’s books and fairy tales, his true love lies in anything macabre, melancholy, or dark in nature and essence. He believes that the job of putting someone else’s words into a visual form, to accompany and support their text, is a massive responsibility, as well as being something he truly treasures. You can visit his web site at www.carrionhouse.com.
“On the Care and Training of Human Staff” is © 2019 Princess Rain E. Day
Art accompanying story is © 2019 Luke Spooner
Onion Cells (https://www.flickr.com/photos/kaibara/3839720754/) CC-by-2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)
Biophysicists have been attempting to create synthetic cells for at least 20 years, but in late 2018, their attempts were finally getting close to producing results.
Advances in microfluidic technologies have paved the way for the creation of synthetic cells, as these technologies “allow scientists to coordinate the movements of minuscule cellular components.” The microfluid allows the creation of liposomes and mitochondrion, both of which are necessary building blocks for cells. Now all the biophysicists need to do is to find a way to integrate these pieces with the other pieces they have developed.
You can read more about this here!
Power and Majesty by Tansy Rayner Roberts (2019) is the first book in the Creature Court series and serves as a wonderful introduction to this epic fantasy world.
The city of Aufleur seems like a normal enough place, if a bit oversaturated with festivals. But that just means that Velody, a young dressmaker, and her friends Delphine, a ribbon maker, and Rhian, a florist, have plenty of work. All is well for them in their chosen careers for many years, until Velody’s eyes are opened to the truth of the city of Aufleur and the danger of the skies. She is abruptly pulled into a secret war that protects the inhabitants of Aufleur from a threat they aren’t even aware of, and her friends wind up impacted by her new role as well.
The descriptive language and fully realized characters sucked me straight into this book, making it hard to put down. For me, I found it had shades of Dark City and Neverwhere, though more than enough unique qualities to distinguish it from those stories of secret cities existing alongside real places. Though the book uses a lot of specialized language, it includes a glossary to explain those words and the extensive cast of characters. Personally, I found it easy enough to track most of the language and characters without it, but knowing it is there may help some readers.
The author provided us with a free copy of this book for review consideration.
We did not order this cat.
We’re coming down to the final stretch. With our final quarterly out the door and no Kickstarter in the wings, January has been a very quiet month. The next few months will be even quieter. Here’s a look at the numbers.
An essay by Claire Lev, as provided by Judith Field
Art by Luke Spooner
When they let me out of hospital, I decided to rent somewhere with space to write. Jo, the social worker, helped me find a terraced house in the old part of town, the only one in the row not converted into flats. Gentrification had leapfrogged the area. There were no skips outside the tumbledown houses, no four-by-fours blocking the narrow streets. The shades of my immigrant ancestors spoke to me in the place they’d once made a crowded, warm world of their own.
“Bit big for a youngster like you, on your own,” the landlord said, “Miss … er …”
“Claire Lev,” Jo said.
“Claire … Lev. Millwall … two!” I chanted, using the rising and falling cadence of a football commentator. Okay name for a house, Millwall. Bucolic. Strong.
Jo pursed her lips and shook her head at my display of what the shrink dubbed “knight’s move thinking.”
“Miss Lev.” The landlord leaned away from me, as though I was contagious. He told me a rabbi had lived in the house, which meant that he’d labeled me as Jewish. Once people slot you in like that, the label is like a flashing light in their heads, steering everything they say. I waited for him to ask “if I knew the Cohens.”
“It was about 80 years ago. There were a lot of you people ’round here then.” You people.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
~
No one since the rabbi had smartened the house up. The faded, peeling wallpaper looked as if it had been there since the thirties. It was patterned with overblown tea roses that I saw faces in. The bathroom looked even older, with its rust-streaked basin. The bathtub stood on little bunched feet, poised to run.
The attic became my writing room. I scattered rag rugs and beanbags over the floorboards. The light poured in through two huge skylights and blasted the frozen shadows off my brain. Sometimes I’d be writing a poem and in mid-sentence I’d have to stop, as though someone had plucked the thoughts right out of my head.
It didn’t help that the house was full of noise–pipes clanging, stairs squeaking, floors groaning. The cat flap in the back door banged, even on windless days. I rang the landlord and asked him to get rid of it. I heard soldiers marching in one of the bedrooms, but when I went in, there was nothing to see, even though I could still hear them. And always the smell of wet mud, the sound of water dripping.
It didn’t help that the house was full of noise–pipes clanging, stairs squeaking, floors groaning. The cat flap in the back door banged, even on windless days.
To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Winter 2020 collection.
Claire Lev also lives in London, UK. She’s a ceramicist, and she and Judith met at Claire’s art installation “Living Clay”, consisting entirely of golems of different sizes. Blink, and they seemed to have moved. But that can’t be so…can it?
Judith Field lives in London, UK. She writes because it’s in her DNA. She’s the daughter of writers and learned how to agonise over fiction submissions at her mother’s (and father’s) knee. She speaks 5 languages and can say “please publish this story” in all of them. Her short stories, mainly speculative, have appeared in a variety of publications in the USA, UK, Australia and New Zealand.
Luke Spooner, a.k.a. ‘Carrion House,’ currently lives and works in the South of England. Having recently graduated from the University of Portsmouth with a first class degree, he is now a full time illustrator for just about any project that piques his interest. Despite regular forays into children’s books and fairy tales, his true love lies in anything macabre, melancholy, or dark in nature and essence. He believes that the job of putting someone else’s words into a visual form, to accompany and support their text, is a massive responsibility, as well as being something he truly treasures. You can visit his web site at www.carrionhouse.com.
This story first appeared in Stupefying Stories, August 2012.
“The Prototype” is © 2012 Judith Field
Art accompanying story is © 2019 Luke Spooner
Mummy in Louvre (https://www.flickr.com/photos/alexbaranov/16162468371/) CC-by-2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)
Scientists have recently determined what a mummy might have sounded like by 3-D printing a mummy’s vocal cords.
Though a single elongated vowel is not much of a conversation, the technology has been used previously to simulate the sound of speech for a mummified corpse found frozen in the Italian Alps. The latest subject is a 3,000-year-old Egyptian mummy.
You can read more about this here!
