I was out walking for an afternoon break, and I happened upon another wounded butterfly.
This time, the victim was a Mourning Cloak Butterfly (Nymphalis antiopa), which has a vast range across both America and Europe. It wasn’t keen on being examined, but the damage was heavy: the right forewing wasn’t moving at all, the right hindwing was torn up, the left forewing had a chunk torn out, and one antenna was completely missing.
For whatever reason, though, it loved just crawling on my hand and arm, and sat there rather contentedly as long as I wasn’t poking at it. It only briefly opened its wings to show the long, delicate, rust-colored hairs near its body.
I found a safe, shady spot for my new pal, but only after it hitched a ride on my hand for a good 10 minutes.
Butterflies are far from unusual in the wooded areas around my workplace. In fact, last year, there was a huge milkweed plant that produced a startling amount of Monarch butterflies. However, I think I’ve certainly seen more varieties of butterfly this year than I ever have, and it’s very strange that I’d stumble upon two wounded ones within a week of each other. I wonder if there are new predators about.
I swear I’m not tormenting butterflies for blog hits.
This, my friends, is a giant guitar squid. Playing baseball with a whiffle bat.
I was at the Peelander-Z show at the 7th Street Entry last night. I’d never heard one whit of their music before, but I handed over $12 simply because I heard that they play one hell of a show.
They certainly did not disappoint.
I don’t really know how to describe what I saw. It involved five Japanese people, dressed like homemade Power Rangers and weilding giant cue cards, playing very loud music and claiming to be from Planet Peelander. At one point, Peelander-Red (yes, they are color-coded) was hanging from the rafters over the audience by his sneakers, playing guitar upside-down. At another point, the band handed tin pans and drumsticks to the crowd, who became their own percussion section. Then there was a giant guitar squid wielding a whiffle bat.
There was crowd participation galore. These guys are fun.
The two opening bands were both locals: In Defence and Birthday Suits. Both rock very loudly.
I snagged a few other photos with my iPhone, but they aren’t quite as good as the one above. Mostly, I was trying to avoid injury at the edge of the mosh pit.
Yesterday was a beautiful, summery day in Minneapolis. I had some time to kill before a concert at the 7th Street Entry, so I parked about a mile away and walked there. I amused myself with Instagram.
The Saturday of Ebertfest was the last of the “big” days, which included three films: Higher Ground, Patang, and Take Shelter. After that, only one film remained unseen during the festival, so this was the day that Ebertfesters made their last big gatherings. Between Patang and Take Shelter, I wound up at a very cramped Tweet-up at Guido’s with folks like @smithward2, @ebertfest, @foodiacsceo, @sircritic, and a few others whose aliases I now cannot recall. Up to that dinner, I’d been mostly in stealth mode at Ebertfest, as the only folks I really knew in the Ebertfest crowd were Mirko (the buddy I was staying with) and critic Steve Prokopy (who I know from years and years of Butt-Numb-a-Thon).
After that day’s films, Mirko indulged my need for diner food by joining me at Merry Ann’s Diner, a 24-hour joint known for their “hangover horseshoe”, a pile of carbs and meat that defies description, reasonableness, and possibly health codes. Anyway, they provided me with this…
I love you, Chambana.
Anyway, onward to the movies… Continue Reading →
I took a short walk this afternoon during a break at work, and stumbed across this little guy.
Male Polyphemus moths use their huge antennae to detect pheremones of females. Females have smaller antennae than this.
This, my friends, is an Antheraea polyphemus, aka a Polyphemus Moth. It’s a member of the giant silk moth family, and belive it or not, they get even bigger than this. Full-sized adults can have a wingspan of about 6 inches, which make them very good at frightening the hell out of cityfolk.
This particular critter was hanging out on a sidewalk, about 100 feet away from Highway 394. It’s very windy and gusty today, so he was hanging for dear life onto the asphalt. At first I thought he was dead, but when I reached down to gently open his wings, he proved to be most certainly alive. He just couldn’t fly.
Upon closer inspection, his front right wing was torn. Sadly, this means this guy isn’t going to be around much longer, no matter what I did. I didn’t want to see him squashed, though, so I took the liberty of gently picking him up and moving him off the path, giving him a spot near shelter and water.