Plant Intelligence

For thousands of years, Man considered himself the only sentient being in the universe, the only one capable of higher thought, understanding, and language and communication.

We now know that isn’t true. Higher primates, such as gorillas and chimps, are certainly capable of learning not only their own forms of communication, but American Sign Language as well. Dogs, it turns out, are capable of understanding human language at the level of a three year old human child, with some breeds (like German Shepherds) able to differentiate up to a thousand different words. We know that octopi can perform complex tasks (of their own planning, nonetheless), recognize people, and have a functional IQ of about 40. Dolphins and whales have complex languages and not only communicate, but show empathy.

Hence, many people choose not to eat animals, and dine only on plants.

But what about plants? What about their feelings?

Plants? What does a plant know? Corn has ears, but that doesn’t mean it’s listening.

Turns out, plants know more than you think. Plants have been caught communicating in numerous ways, understand when danger is near, and sympathize with other plants.

Yes, really.

This communication is known as phytosemiotics. One way is through chemical signals. A wounded plant will give off a volatile chemical compound (something you can smell) that other plants can sense. The receiving plant can then roll up its leaves or lean away. That wonderful fresh-cut grass smell we love in the summer? Yeah, that’s a hundred thousand blades of grass screaming in agony and warning other plants to beware that something is damaging them. Plants also communicate through ultrasonics – noises above our hearing range but which can be detected and recorded on audio equipment (ultrasonic vibration of 20–105 kHz). Some of this may be due to tiny air bubbles being released due to chemicals triggered during stress. Trees, it turns out, communicate under the soil as well, using certain types of fungi in the dirt to communicate through their roots. Are they discussing algebra? No. But they can tell each other about dangers, or fresh rain, or the pain of bark beetles, and other plants can ‘arm’ themselves accordingly. Just the sound of insects chewing can cause plants to release chemicals that deter insects (caffeine, by the way, exists in plants as a natural insect repellent).

Perhaps the Druids were on to something, thanking plants for sacrificing their leaves.

If that’s not weird enough, plants – even those without ears – apparently respond to music. Sure, houseplant lovers will tell you they’ve always known this, but numerous studies have turned up actual results. As early as 1962, studies showed that plants exposed to classical music had a 20% growth increase and a 72% increase in biomass over controls. Violins gave the best result. This was repeated by a Canadian researcher, with 66% increase in wheat yields using Bach’s violin sonatas. Duckweed, a water plant, exposed to Bandri’s Purple Butterfly, five hours a day for seven days at 60-70 decibels, showed a 10% increase in leaf growth and a slightly higher protein content compared to silent plants. Roses love violin music. Heavy metal tends to induce stress. Devendra Varol of the Institute of Integrated Study in India found that plants can not only distinguish between genres of music, but also nature sounds and traffic noises.

Oh, those poor weeds on the highway!

And while you laugh and scoff, know that in 2004 the TV show MythBusters attempted similar experiments in seven greenhouses. In their experience, Death Metal produced the best growth, second was classical, and third was positive spoken words. The silent greenhouse had the worst growth.

How can this possibly be?

The best theory is that the vibration of music may aid plants in transporting their nutrients more efficiently, shaking things through faster. 

Next time you pull a carrot, remember those mandrakes in Harry Potter shrieking piteously when pulled from the pot.

In the meantime, check out these books on the wisdom of plants, and be kind to your root-footed friends!

Finding the Mother Tree by Suzanne Simard

The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Listen to the Language of Trees by Tera Kelley

Aromatherapy Garden by Kathi Keville

Secret Wisdom of Nature by Peter Wohlleben

Flora by Helen Fewster

The Light Eaters by Zoe Schlanger

I Heard There Was a Secret Chord: Music as Medicine by Daniel Levitin

Healing at the Speed of Sound by Don Campbell

How Shostakovich changed my mind by Stephen Johnson

Violin Music:

Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling

David Garrett by David Garret

Vivaldi for Dummies

The Ultimate Most Relaxing Mozart in the Universe

Unconventional Ghosts

I love ghosts. I’ve never met a ghost myself, so the best I can do is read about them. Why ghosts? Well, they don’t have to follow our rather tiresome rules of gravity and thermodynamics! They could do a loop-de-loop in the air, just for the fun of it. Maybe I’m a bit jealous…

There are many shades of ghost: vengeful ghosts, poltergeists, ghosts with the intent to improve the life of a living person à la A Christmas Carol… These are all fun in their own way, but I find it especially delightful when ghosts are given roles that betray their traditional raisons d’être–ghosts that are not strictly malicious, nor are just around to aid the protagonist. These ghosts are maybe just as complicated and multi-faceted as the humans who begat them.

It’s also interesting to see how authors answer fundamental ghost questions like: Why has the ghost come into existence? What makes the ghost different from a living person? What does the ghost want? The answers to these questions change dramatically from author to author and story to story. They also feel substantial, weighty. Making assumptions and declarations about ghosts is not so different from making assumptions and declarations about life. Like a Rubin vase, where the negative space around a subject becomes its own subject, writing about ghosts and death is a clever way of writing about life.

Anyway, here are some exciting and not-quite-traditional portrayals of ghosts.

Ghostwritten by David Mitchell

David Mitchell’s first novel is ghost-obsessed. “Ghost” is even in the title! But instead of offering a treatise on ghosts and ghostliness, Mitchell’s ghosts, or “noncorpora,” are hard to pin down. They come in many forms, sometimes existing independently and other times hopping from human to human, using bodies as a kind of macabre public transport. For part of the book, we follow one such noncorporum as it travels through rural Mongolia in the body of an American tourist. This particular noncorporum is a self-described “inhuman humanist” and provides some delightfully empathetic insights into the human condition.

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Sometimes when driving home, I’ll hang out in the left lane even if the right lane is moving faster. In my head, I’m thinking, “I know the left lane is faster!” when that’s clearly not the case. People are stubborn, and George Saunders doesn’t see any reason why ghosts wouldn’t be stubborn as well. The ghosts in Lincoln in the Bardo are so stubborn, in fact, they cannot come to terms with the reality of death. Their “sick-forms” (read: corpses) lie in “sick-boxes” (read: coffins) and only need rest. With just a bit more rest, they’ll emerge in tip-top shape and be able to resume their prior lives (read: they won’t). These circumstances may seem hopeless and wretched, but Saunders is able to deliver one of the most affecting and life-affirming conclusions I’ve read. A jewel of a book.

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

Her Fearful Symmetry is a hoot. Unlike some of the other books mentioned here that use the otherworldly to contrast comically with the mundane, Her Fearful Symmetry wholeheartedly commits to flights of fancy. Romance and death intertwine and are taken to their melodramatic extremes. There are envious ghosts, faked deaths, identical twins posing as one another: everything you could possibly want in a story. It’s often absurd and always sublimely entertaining.

100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

In 100 Years of Solitude, characters are haunted by their lineages. Decisions and dispositions repeat from generation to generation, entire lifetimes become ghostly echoes of the past. It is no surprise, then, that actual ghosts occasionally show up to haunt the residents of Macondo. Touchingly (and thematically), isolation is what brings several ghosts back from the dead. They return because they “could not bear the solitude,” or in another case, “the yearning for the living was so intense, the need for company was so pressing.” Human connection is so fundamental a force that not even death can stand in its way.

Welcome to the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut is a famed humanist, but he has mixed feelings about human bodies. Take Breakfast of Champions for example: the protagonist’s rapidly declining mental health is due to an abundance of “bad chemicals” in the brain. Or both Slaughterhouse-Five and Sirens of Titan, where characters’ cannot even rely upon their bodies to stay rooted in space-time. It’s no surprise then that he was interested in a world where humans are not subservient to their oft-malfunctioning bodies. Such is the conceit of the short story, “Unready to Wear,” found in the collection, Welcome to the Monkey House. A mathematician discovers a technique that allows one’s soul to be separated from their physical being and float about unburdened by corporeal whims.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

Ghosts can represent trauma, guilt, love, regret, suffering, anger, dehumanization–really anything if an author can realize their vision. But since ghosts can mean so many things, they have the potential to become unwieldy, or conversely, underbaked. Toni Morrison does not have this problem. The ghost in Beloved is loaded with nuanced meaning, compelling but elusive. This is a literary balancing act and a depiction of ghostliness so unique that it stands alone. Brutal, beautiful, and haunting.

Get Your Kicks with Martial Arts Films

Ever wonder how much of movie fight scenes are staged and faked, and how much is real? Today, so much is done on a green screen, even the locations are unconvincing. You can be sure, however, that martial arts films are very real.

Martial arts films have some of the best action and fight choreography you can find in film, and they often span multiple genres. Some are written specifically for comedy (most American Jackie Chan films, like Rush Hour), while others are mind-bending (The Matrix). Some are more realistic (Enter the Dragon), while others are not (John Wick 4. Thirteen consecutive hits by cars? I think not. Don’t get me wrong – the John Wick series is in my top 20 films, but this pushes credibility.) Foreign films tend to focus more on the art and less on a story line (sorry, subtitles or overdubbing, the dialogue in Jackie Chan’s Police Story is downright painful, even though the action and car chases are superb), while American films tend to have a story line that is stretched to make room for the action scenes (If John Wick can kill three men with a pencil, does that make the Joker, who kills one, also a martial artist?). Some movies are very good (Ip Man 2, which is a lot like Hong Kong Rocky) while others are cringeworthy and forced (American Kickboxer, for one).

Few martial arts movies are “pure” – there are few “karate” or “judo” or “jiu jitsu” films. Most martial arts films use mixed martial arts, as the actors are usually multiply trained. Bruce Lee, the granddaddy of martial arts stars, didn’t hold a black belt in anything, but invented his own school called Jeet Kune Do. Lee studied under the actual Ip Man, Yip Kai-Man, who invented the school of Wing Chun. The incredible Donnie Yen, whose greatest American films have been Star Wars: Rogue One and John Wick 4, has black belts in Wing Chun, Judo, a sixth-level black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and a purple belt in Jiu Jitsu. Keanu Reeves, of John Wick and Matrix fame, holds a black belt in Jiu Jitsu, as well as black belts in Judo and Karate.

What’s the difference between all the different martial arts forms? Generally, they’re very minor. Some use open hand, some used closed. Some are meant to deflect and defend, others to overpower (Krav Maga). Some emphasize hand work over kicks. Aikido deflects the energy of an attacker, rather than responding. Jiu Jitsu is about pinning and dominating an opponent. Wing Chun focuses on the center of the body and rapid-fire punching, similar to boxing. A second difference is the concept of “belts.” The “belt” level concept is Japanese in origin, while the Chinese systems don’t always use it. This is partly why some of the greatest martial artists of film – such as Bruce Lee – don’t have black belts in any denomination.  Traditionally, the forms using belt levels are karate, tae kwon do, judo, and jiu jitsu.

You might be surprised to know there are a number of western action actors who are more than proficient at various martial arts, including Iron Man actor Robert Downey Jr. (Wing Chun), Wesley Snipes (5th level black belt in karate, 2nd level black belt in Hapkido, plus jiujitsu, kickboxing, kung fu, and capoeira), and Steven Seagal, a 7th-level black belt in Aikido. Chuck Norris has a tenth-degree blackbelt in Tang Su Do. Jean-Claude Van Damme has black belts in karate and kickboxing. Sean Connery, the first James Bond, had a black belt in karate. Jason Statham has a brown belt in jiu jitsu. Even Willie Nelson is a fifth-degree black belt in Korean Gongkwon Yusul, which he has studied for more than twenty years.

On the other hand, Michelle Yeoh, who stars in many martial arts-action films, has no formal training at all, but chalks up her moves to dance training. On film, no one can tell.

Don’t skip a movie just because it’s in a foreign language. Movies like Ip Man 2 and Seven Samurai are well-worth reading captions. Whether you like your action cheesy and fun, or serious and deadly, check out these films that feature martial arts or martial artists, and be careful what you kick or punch!

8 Movie Action Pack

Big Trouble in Little China

Art of Self Defense

As Good as Dead

Big Trouble in Little China

Blade

From Russia With Love

Embattled

Everything Everywhere All At Once

Fearless

Forbidden Kingdom

Foreigner

Hero

Jiu Jitsu

John Wick 1-4

Karate Kid

Keeper

Kill Bill

The Matrix

Mulan

Rush Hour

Pistol Whipped

Red Cliff

Rogue One

Rush Hour

Sakra

Seven Samurai

Shang Chi

Spy Next Door

The Assassin

XXX Return of Xander Cage

Unorthodox Aliens

Reading science fiction can be overwhelming — what on earth is a chrono-synclastic infundibulum? Despite the tough jargon and speculative concepts, it’s quite an inward-looking genre. These stories typically loop back around to reflect something about ourselves — an assumption or expectation or fear that could use some interrogation. Aliens are possibly the most overt display of this narrative device. They are funhouse mirror versions of ourselves: the same but different. Aliens carry all the social, cultural, and political baggage we tend to associate with Otherness, but evoke sympathy too. At the end of E.T., are we not puffy-eyed to see that strange creature, who’s been nurtured and accepted, finally return home?

And don’t we all feel like E.T. — an alien, a pariah — in some way?

Here are some novels and stories that feature subtle and unconventional alien characters.


Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut loves his unorthodox aliens. Hand-shaped Tralfamadorians play a significant role in Slaughterhouse-Five, but I’d like to mention a minor alien race from Sirens of Titan. In a slight deviation from his main journey, protagonist Malachi Constant crash-lands on a planet populated by harmoniums: flat, kite-shaped beings that cling to cave walls and only perceive the world through touch. They communicate with limited telepathic abilities and are able to send two possible messages:


The first is an automatic response to the second, and the second is an automatic response to the first.
The first is, “Here I am, here I am, here I am.”
The second is, “So glad you are, so glad you are, so glad you are.”


Hyperion by Dan Simmons

Hyperion borrows its framing device from The Canterbury Tales. Its narrative unfolds as each of six pilgrims tells their portion of the story on their way to the time tombs, where they plan to confront the omnipotent Shrike. The Shrike fits your evil-monster-alien archetype (with some twists along the way), but there are other alien beings that populate the many planets of Hyperion. Most poignant is Simmons’ depiction of a human race that has lost its home: the Earth. They become aliens in their own right, establishing new civilizations around the galaxy but ultimately “alienated” in one way or another.


Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang

“Story of Your Life,” from the short story collection Stories of Your Life and Others, is about language, specifically the field of science known as linguistic relativity. Researchers in this field try to determine whether the language we use affects the way we think. For example, some languages describe time using distance terms (like “short” and “long”) and others describe time using quantity related terms (like “much” or “little”). A study from 2017 concluded that, under certain circumstances, these language differences result in actual differences in time perception.

Chiang takes this idea to its extreme and introduces an alien race that communicates in a completely circular language. As a result, these aliens perceive time as though it were a circle, living the entirety of their lives simultaneously- past, present, and future.

What if a human were to learn their strange and powerful language? “Story of Your Life” was adapted into the 2016 film Arrival.


The Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu

Some might be familiar with Ken Liu’s translation work. He’s best known for the English translation of The Three-Body Problem, a sci-fi epic by Liu Cixin (now a Netflix Original). He also writes novels and short stories that blend sci-fi, fantasy, and folklore.

His short story collection Paper Menagerie opens with “The Bookmaking Habits of Select Species.” The title says it all — how might alien races create persistent representations of their language and thoughts? I particularly like how he describes the Allatians: they stick their proboscis onto an impressionable surface, and as they speak, their proboscis vibrates and etches a groove into the surface. To read what another Allatian has written, one drags their own proboscis through the groove, and a hollow part of their skull amplifies the sound; the voice of the writer is recreated.


The Book of Strange New Things and Under the Skin by Michel Faber

Aliens are a recurring theme in Michel Faber’s writing. His 2014 novel, The Book of Strange New Things, takes place on a far-away planet that has been introduced to Christianity. Missionary Peter Leigh becomes the new minister of a docile alien congregation but struggles to reconcile his ecclesiastical commitment and the guilt of leaving his wife back on Earth, where climate change and political turmoil conspire to topple civilization.

Under the Skin, Faber’s first novel, paints a darker portrait of humanity (or alienity, ha). It’s the kind of book that holds its cards close and lets the reader marvel (and shudder) as the story progresses.

Faber presents a kaleidoscope of Otherness; themes of exploitation, gender, immigration, class politics, and animal cruelty are woven throughout and explored with satirical levity. The book was loosely adapted into a movie of the same name in 2013 with Scarlett Johansson.


Which “Unorthodox Aliens” am I missing? Let me know in the comments section below.

The Library of Congress Needs Your Help!

I recently took a class on archives and manuscript management- as one does- and learned about a problem in the world of museums and archives. Many of them have large numbers of old documents they have scanned into their digital collections for preservation, but they’re not searchable. What do I mean by “searchable?” Let’s say you’re doing research online, looking for information on feral pigs in North America in the 19th century. Now, it turns out the Library of Congress had a bunch of letters donated to them that discuss precisely this, and you could read all about the problems Matilda had on her farm in Cheshire as she writes to Cletus in Middletown. Unfortunately, you’re not likely to find these letters by blindly sorting through the images that make up the archives’ massive collection. Those letters first need to be transcribed, where someone looks at the pictures taken of the letters and types what is written there. Once this text has been typed, the computer is able to match your search for “feral pigs, North America, 1800s” with the text that was entered via transcription.

Here’s the problem: it takes a lot of time to transcribe all those old historical records. The solution? You.

That’s right! There are all kinds of archives and other historical organizations looking for volunteers to transcribe and review old documents. What does this look like in action? Here’s an example from a transcription I did on the Library of Congress’s We the People website:

Above is an article written by Frederick Law Olmsted, the “father of landscape architecture in the United States,” best known for designing Central Park in New York City. Here, he enthuses about the “Lungs of London,” another term for London’s Royal Parks. Even within this brief two-page document, there is so much to sink your teeth into. He describes the necessity of public parks that do not exclude the working class:

Money, and their legs, will carry [genteel people] whither they will; but with the poor artisan or labouring man it is not so. He cannot afford time or means to set out with his wife and children on a Sunday voyage of discovery – and to find the shades of night, perhaps, falling around him just as he has succeeded in refreshing his eyes with a bit of anything green.

Poetic! And relevant 185 years later… When opening up a new document to transcribe, there’s no telling what you may find.

This kind of project is perfect for history buffs, puzzle hounds, those interested in volunteering their time, or anyone who has ever thought, “Gee, I bet I’d make a good code cracker.” Each organization has slightly different guidelines for transcription, so definitely peruse those before you get started. Generally, these institutions want to make it easy for volunteers to provide their help, so it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before you’re transcribing your first document.

Here are a few of my favorites:

The Library of Congress– Probably the quickest to get started, with the easiest-to-use interface. You don’t have to have an account to transcribe, but if you create one (it’s free), you can track your hours.

National Archives– Volunteers here are called “Citizen Archivists,” and have more options outside of straightforward transcription like their “Outside the Box Missions.” This one wins for coolest branding.

Historic New England– They’re focusing on transcribing the Casey Family Papers right now, and from what I can tell this is a family with decent handwriting, great for beginners.

There are also many other smaller institutions looking for transcription help, along with international archives. Try googling “archives transcription volunteers” or “digital transcription volunteers” if none of the above suggestions tickle your fancy.

Questions? Did you try it? What did you think?