Hey, I'm back! I went to a rockin' party and an awesome conference and now I am full of interesting tales. Also, I am full of determination to finish my thesis this year, and an unfortunate byproduct of that resolution is a need to cut down on my blogging. Therefore, as you can see from my mutilated banner, squid-a-day is temporarily squid-a-week, until I finish my degree.

So once a week I will be delivering a concentrated dose of squid! Are you ready for the first? It's extra concentrated, since I had to cover the first twelve days of the new year . . .

We'll start with some sassy news: Creepy Animal Behaviors That Science Can't Explain:

Finally, there is the matter of the mass squid suicide. They all beached themselves around the time of an earthquake, so some figure there might be a connection. But scientists point out that squid are basically aggressive water balloons, and don't have any of the structures in them that cause fish and whales to become disoriented during quakes. Additionally, the squids started beaching themselves three days before the quake, which either means that the two events are unrelated or that squids a) can predict earthquakes (more on that later) and b) are using the earthquake as an opportunity to come on land and attack us at our most vulnerable and disoriented. Granted, that was probably the most poorly thought out invasion ever but still, it's scary to know they're planning something.

Since I spent a few minutes on camera and considerably longer on the internet debunking the earthquake connection, I appreciate the clarity with which the issue is presented here. I do object to the article's title, though, which is missing a key word. It should be Creepy Animal
Behaviors That Science Can't Explain Yet. Asserting that science can't explain something just because it hasn't yet shows a remarkable lack of historical context. There was a time when science couldn't explain eclipses, either.

Meanwhile, turning to the entertainment industry and wondering when they'll stop taunting me with pseudo-cephalopodic titles, The Squid and the Whale had nothing to do with biology--anyone want to take bets on The Squid Man? Because if it can be taken at face value, I would totally audition for that.

However, if I miss my calling as a bit actor in dark comedies, I have another plan. The other day when I was checking out the baby cuttles at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, I thought to myself: when I finish my PhD, I'm going to a) revel in not feeling guilty for not working on my thesis for the first time in six years, and b) set up my saltwater aquarium at home again so I can raise baby cuttlefish.

Clearly I am not the only person with this dream, because this guy is living it:

Aquatic biologist Richard Ross spent years learning to breed unusual sea creatures called dwarf cuttlefish for fun in his Alameda home. . . . Ross began raising dwarf cuttlefish several years ago, when he was stay-at-home dad. "When I was looking for more to do that didn't involve 4-year-olds, I started volunteering at the Steinhart Aquarium," he said. Ultimately, he was hired at the aquarium full-time to care for the animals. Ross then asked if he could create a breeding program for dwarf cuttlefish at the aquarium, which has a reef tank featuring animals from the Philippines.

Man, that is neat. I want to be his friend!

In closing, the San Diego Union-Tribune brings us the news that squid aren't the only tentacled creatures, and finally . . . my old pals the Humboldts still haven't gone south for the winter! Time to get out on the water and gather more data!