Last time, I showed you a photo of the head and neck of the London Diplodocus and asked what was wrong. Quite a few of you got it right (including Matt when we were chatting, but I asked him not to give it away by posting a comment). The 100 SV-POW!
Last time, I showed you a photo of the head and neck of the London Diplodocus and asked what was wrong. Quite a few of you got it right (including Matt when we were chatting, but I asked him not to give it away by posting a comment). The 100 SV-POW!
Last Saturday I was at a wedding at Holy Trinity Brompton, a London church that is conveniently located a ten-minute stroll from the Natural History Museum.
Alert readers probably noticed that I titled the first post in this series “Matt’s first megalodon tooth“, implying that there would be other megalodon teeth to follow. Here’s my second one. At first glance, this is a pretty jacked-up megalodon tooth.
In a paper that I’m just finishing up now, we want to include this 1903 photo of Carnegie Museum personnel: A few weeks ago I asked for help on Twitter in identifying the people shown here, and I got a lot of useful contributions.
Couple of fun things here. First, if you’d like to play with — or print — 3D models of megalodon teeth, there are a bunch of them on Sketchfab, helpfully curated by Thomas Flynn, the Cultural Heritage Lead there.
Cast (white) and fossil (gray) great white shark teeth, lingual (tongue) sides. Something cool came in the mail today: a fossil tooth of a great white shark, Carcharodon carcharias . The root is a bit eroded, but the enamel-covered crown is in great shape, and it’s almost exactly the same size as my cast tooth from a modern great white. The labial (outer or lip-facing) sides of the same teeth. I got this for a couple of reasons.
I got this thing a while back. I’d always wanted one, and it really does spark joy. First up: what should we call this critter? AFAIK, the species name has never been in doubt, it’s always been [Somegenus] megalodon.
Long-time readers will recall that I’m fascinated by neurocentral joints, and not merely that they exist (although they are pretty cool), but that in some vertebrae they migrate dorsally or ventrally from their typical position (see this and this). A few years ago I learned that there is a term for the expanded bit of […]
Darren, the silent partner at SV-POW!, pointed me to this tweet by Duc de Vinney, displaying a tableau of “A bunch of Boners (people who study bones) Not just paleontologists, some naturalists and cryptozoologists too”, apparently commissioned by @EDGEinthewild: As you can see, Darren, Matt and I (as well as long-time Friend Of SV-POW!
It’s been a while since we checked in on our old friends Elsevier, Springer Nature and Wiley — collectively, the big legacy publishers who still dominate scholarly publishing.
Vertebrae of Haplocanthosaurus (A-C) and a giraffe (D-F) illustrating three ways of orienting a vertebra: articular surfaces vertical — or at least the caudal articular surface vertical (A and D), floor of the neural canal horizontal (B and E), and similarity in articulation (C and F). See the paper for details! Taylor and Wedel (2002: fig.