7/29/20
Human's Tribune
Volume 3
Issue 24
Wednesday, July 29, 2020
Bat Talk Translated!By Ember Hernandez
Like most animals, Egyptian fruit bats have their very own language. But instead of body language or random howls, they have a language of squeaks. Almost all animals communicate somehow. Birds chirp, lions roar, and dolphins squeak. Researchers at TAU University found out that Egyptian fruit bats always seem to squeak and squeal after meeting up again. It’s not random, actually they are telling the other bats about their problems, or complaining.
A neurologist Yossi Yovel and a few of his friends recorded 22 of those bats for about 3 months. Yossi modified a machine that recognized and translated human voices, after testing it approximately 15,000 times using software. They also tried to match the bats’ activities with the chirps.
“The bat noises are not just random, as previously thought”, says Skibba. They classified about 60% of the calls into categories: one were the bats arguing about food, one was an argument about sleeping positions, the third is males telling other males to get away from their mates, and the fourth is reserved for telling a bat they’re too close. The squeaks also slightly differentiate when speaking to different bats, like how dolphins have names as well. Skibba says that dolphins, humans, and only a few other types of animals assign sounds to different animals of the same species.
A lot of the chirps contain the same information, Yovel reveals. Looking carefully at the language of these talkative bats is half of what you need to do to uncode the mystery of the fruit bats. In the future, these neurologists think they might even be able to stretch out more of this language.
Kate Jones is professor of biodiversity at UCL University, and says bats are very social creatures, so they obviously have things to say to each other. And this is just the beginning. Perhaps one day we will uncode all animal communications. Source from Smithsonian Magazine.
The Price of Pretty Packaging
By Ember Hernandez
Names, fonts, even the word “organic” slaps on another $3.50.
How many of you seem to prefer “pink himalayan salt” over regular salt? It’s pink, I’ll give it that, but it’s not healthier. It doesn’t come from the Himalayas technically, and it’s not organic. Nonetheless, so many people love this seasoning. The sales have skyrocketed. Why? It’s different. Apparently one of a kind. People say it even improves your sleep cycle, but no, it’s just pink salt. It’s even turned into decor (I admit, I too have a pink salt lamp)! Because those types of things put an impression on us; that if it’s different, it’s better for you.
I’ll ask something else: how many people do you know pay for the same item in different packaging? Marketing has a way of tricking us into buying these things by adding fancier words, or how these items were delicately created. And for the most part, it works.
Let’s talk about the work “organic’’. It means that the fruit and vegetables you were eating had no pesticides on them, which is good. Usually, the pesticides wash right off. “No pesticides” means more bugs on your plate. They’re just micro-sized (that’s what you get for not rinsing your food). It’s great that those people are using farming methods, but organic farming foods rots faster, too. It’s just better to buy the cheaper brands, unless it comes to fish, then make sure it’s locally fished.
Here’s my advice: buy the good-quality brand, but make sure what you’re paying for is actually worth the extra money.
Classic Article:Crossing the Bar
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Sunset and the evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound or foam,
When that which drew out from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and the evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my pilot face to face
When I cross the bar.
Sunset and the evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound or foam,
When that which drew out from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and the evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my pilot face to face
When I cross the bar.
I really enjoyed this article! Keep up the good work!
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