Showing posts with label holy shit what IS that thing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holy shit what IS that thing. Show all posts

Saturday, 20 October 2012

The Many Vices Of Steve

Every biology teaching lab should have a skeleton. The best lab skeletons have names. My skeleton is Steve.


Steve has featured in a number of outgoing class photos, and it is a joy for me each September to see how long it will be before the new students try to make Steve grope his non-existent breasts. Just over a year ago, the Class of 2011 decided to show one of Steve's peccadilloes - in this case, it was bestiality:


He likes Halloween, and was most impressed with his outfit:


And in the absence of a Christmas tree, he gallantly stepped up to be covered in decorations:


Courtesy of the Class of 2012, Steve lost his head and indulged in a bit of fisting:


But on Friday it all got a bit too much for him, and my HND class made him into a NEET:


After many years, two dislocated shoulders, a missing atlas and a pigeon chest, Steve is retiring. He has been replaced by Steve 2, who is taller, better put together, and crucially this time, actually a male skeleton. Steve 1 is coming back to Jurassic Towers, which will be his forever home.

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Retail Therapy

After yesterday, I needed some cheering up, and Jabba needed some food, so we went down to Ashford to TC Reptiles, purveyors of the finest locusts in town.

We'd missed out on the Kempton Park Reptile Expo a couple of weeks ago, as it was the hottest day of the year and we remembered it being oppressively hot and overcrowded the last time we visited. So I was on the lookout for some more creepy-crawlies for the lab. I had been advised that several students, teachers and lab technicians would not come near the lab if I bought a tarantula, so that was out.

Anyway, TC had some Pacman frogs, Ceratophrys ornata. And they're aggressive little bastards. The owner had his favourite, which was permanently furious, and could be lifted up by the food it had just bitten. We got the second most aggressive.


It doesn't have a name yet. I'm saving the honour of naming it for my incoming A2 class. Though Paul has been calling it Hypnotoad in the interim.

I plan to draft in "Hypnotoad" for informal detentions:

Me: "You, misbehaving student, come here and put your finger in the tank."
Frog: *chomp*
Me: "Now you stay here until Hypnotoad lets go."
Student: *whimper*

Saturday, 11 August 2012

Some Study That I Used To Know

I saw this parody of Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know", and I thought of my students.


However, I shall not be berating my students for forgetting all their A-level biology whilst naked. I'm scary enough with all my clothes on.

Saturday, 14 July 2012

Names For Genitals

Yes, it's time for another classic post on penises. This one is triggered by the publication of a letter from Schools Minister Nick Gibb MP to the Society for the Protection of the Unborn Child, indicating that it wasn't important that children were able to correctly name the parts of their bodies. To which I say: bollocks testicles.

I covered this at great length back in October of last year, albeit with a focus on SRE lessons for older students. Still, I mentioned the issues with primary education, and these have been described extensively in a press release by the PSHE Association.

In my first year of teaching, I taught GCSE Biology, which included some lessons on the menstrual cycle, fertility and secondary sexual characteristics. I'm fortunate to have some (now rather elderly) plaster models of male and female genitals, and these were particularly popular. Suffice to say the vulva is as polished as the nipples on bronze statues in museums, one half of the shaft of the penis has broken after the BTEC boys dropped it (you'd think they'd know how to hold it properly), and I've lost track of how many male students have fallen over themselves in their eagerness to proclaim that they know the location of the clitoris.

But there were a lot of students who found it difficult to bring themselves to look at the models, and some of the girls wouldn't touch the male genitals model. Perhaps it was a little cruel of me to make every student in the class shout out the word "PENIS!" at the start of the next lesson, though once they'd done that they all felt better.

In one such lesson, I wanted the students to brainstorm secondary sexual characteristics. So I split the class into boys and girls, made the boys list the female secondary sexual characteristics, and the girls the male secondary sexual characteristics. Holy crap, did I learn a few new phrases that day! I also learnt that Leonardo da Vinci wasn't going to have any competitors on the anatomical illustration front from that class, but there you go.

Some of the many words that had been written down included a variety of "playground terms" for the male and female genitals. Interestingly enough, the students thought it was fine to write "cunt", but they starred out "pussy" so it was "p***y". Then one lad asked me why a penis was sometimes referred to as a "dick" in English. I confess, this question threw me. If anyone knows the etymology of "dick" for "penis" then I'll be grateful for the insight. I said that there were a lot of different nicknames, and that it was something of a personal preference (yeah, I totally bullshitted that one...).

Then one of the young ladies piped up: "Yeah, I know one guy who calls his Thunderbolt!"

The lesson ended ten minutes early because I was laughing too much to continue.

Saturday, 7 July 2012

Vicious Detritivore

I'm still recovering from the final week of term. Suffice to say, I do not want to see kiwi fruit, flapjacks or 5:00am for a very very long time. Yesterday I took four of my very best AS students to Cambridge for an open day at Caius College, which was a great success (though it pissed it down for much of the day). I'm hoping to have at least one of them apply in September, maybe more - they're all exceptional.

Earlier in the week I was briefly able to sit in the garden for a short while, and I spotted a very large beetle on the gravel. So I picked it up and put it on the table to poke examine it further.


It's a stag beetle, no doubt about it. The only question is whether it's a greater or lesser stag beetle. Well, the yellow "trim" and the brown colour to the carapace is a giveaway - it's the female of the greater stag beetle, Lucanus cervus.


She was clearly furious with me, rearing up on her hind legs a few times. Apparently the females can give a nasty bite, so I did well to avoid her jaws there. I did put her back on the ground to continue her evening's activity, which was presumably trying to find a male stag beetle or a place to lay her eggs.

Sunday, 10 June 2012

Things I Learned From My Students #11: Procrastination

What better time for a blog post than when I should be writing a statement of application for an internal vacancy? My A2 students have their Unit 4 exam this coming Friday, so I should think there are 15 alpabetised sock drawers in west London, as an indicator of the amount of procrastination taking place. Anyway, here are some pearls of wisdom to pass on to you.
  1. Apparently it's entirely normal to e-mail your biology lecturer Led Zeppelin lyrics at 3am on a Saturday morning.
  2. Yet apparently it's not an achievable task to e-mail your biology lecturer the outstanding coursework at 3am on a Saturday morning.
  3. There's no point committing a long name like Cedrus libani to memory when you can just call it Big Crazy Tree Mudafuuuu.
  4. It's impossible to memorise three Latin names for plants, but perfectly reasonable to memorise the first and last names of the entire Polish football team.
  5. No matter how awful a student's home life is, they are always thankful that their name is not Melvin Calvin.
  6. Barnacles deserve maximum respect.
  7. Hangovers really aren't conducive to starting the first part of the A2 biology syllabus, and may result in the bunking off of the afternoon's physics lesson.
  8. If you're a teenage boy, every round object resembles breasts, and every long object resembles a penis.
  9. When doing an experiment to measure the volume (and therefore density) of an irregular object, some joker always asks if they can measure the volume of their penis.
  10. These jokers don't like it if you hand them a 10ml measuring cylinder.
  11. There is no such thing as bad weather; only inappropriate clothing. And boy, is there inappropriate clothing for fieldwork...
  12. Kitten heels are not great footwear for a trip round a plant nursery.
  13. Until such time as I can train my lab pelargoniums to do a dance routine to "Somebody That I Used To Know", my students will never be truly interested in plants.
  14. The level of disgust expressed at being defaecated on by a giant millipede should never be underestimated.
  15. Millipedes have "too many legs".
  16. The word "bodman" apparently means "condom".
  17. It's perfectly acceptable to refer to your female teacher as "Bro" or "Bruv".
  18. I may need to wear lower-cut tops if my students are confused about my gender.
  19. Flapjacks really are very well received pre-exam sustenance.
  20. The Marmoset Song exists. Thank you. I mean it. Really.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Lab Animals

I've had plants in my biology lab for a couple of years now - the bog-standard variegated Pelargonium, a couple of parrot plants, some cycads too fragile for my garden and a Sarracenia that uses more distilled water than all the week's practicals put together.

But it's clear that all labs need some animal life (in addition to the students), whether it's hamsters, fish or something a bit more exotic. Dave had suggested Mexican blind cave fish, which were a really interesting species. I'd been interested in cichlids, so I could point at them and shout "SYMPATRIC SPECIATION! LOOK!!!" at incredulous A2 students. But tropical fish would have been very high-maintenance - too much for a lab that would be shut down entirely for ten days at Christmas, even if I could have come in to feed and clean the fish during the holidays.

Then, one dismal Sunday afternoon a few weeks ago, I went to the Isleworth Spring Fair, to support Paul, who was working on a stall. We had a bit of a wander round on one of his breaks, and saw a tent with a bit of activity going on. As soon as I walked in I saw there were lots of animals there to be handled! I chatted to the owner of the animals - he works for the education department at the Natural History Museum normally, but evidently has a bit of a side project bringing his pets to events for people to learn about. He had a python, corn snake, milk snake, veiled chameleon, bearded dragon and loads of invertebrates.

Including a giant millipede.

Turns out these guys are really low-maintenance and fascinating creatures. It's a bit like being walked on by a toothbrush. They are herbivorous, and detritivores at that, so the freshness of the food is not really an issue. They have a commensal relationship with cleaner mites, and their anatomy is really interesting.


They arrived by courier on Wednesday evening and I brought them straight into the lab. The first one I put in the tank was absolutely enormous, bold as brass and very curious. It investigated the tank thoroughly, then positively inhaled a slice of leek. The second one was grumpy, curled itself up in a ball and sulked for hours. I'm astounded that it didn't cover me in cyanide, it was so pissed off with me. They are both pooing like it's going out of fashion too.

For reasons that will only be clear to my A2 students, the first one has been named Bodman (left in both pictures), and the second one Moisted.


Two of my students have held them so far. One of the BTEC girls asked to hold it and then got scared when its legs started to move. And I made my prospective vet student hold one and told him he'd better get used to them as he might have some as patients.

With my AS students in the middle of exams, and my A2s about to start, and my BTECs starting to wind down and finish their assignments, it's nice to have something still alive in the lab to nurture, sustain and care for. It might make the end of term seem a little less wretched than it usually does.

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Rule 34

Someone who doesn't know me might be forgiven for thinking that, as a member of the teaching profession, I am somehow morally righteous, prudish and humourless in the classroom. The rest of you will be under no such assumptions. The following video is a fairly typical exchange between students and eventually me - this week I introduced them to Rule 34.

Other than the information that this is my A2 Biology class, who were doing their final core practical ("Investigating Habituation to a Stimulus"), the students are anonymised. Members of the class who happen upon this video will instantly know who the students are, but I was sure not to film their faces, and no one refers to anyone by name, so their dignity (such as it is) is preserved. All the students in the video, whether in shot or in voice only, are over 18.

Which makes the way they are about to respond to the snail utterly hilarious.


Tomorrow I finish the A2 syllabus, and then it's past papers and practice questions until the exams begin. I really am going to miss this group - a few I have only taught for one academic year, but most of them have been my students for two years. A select handful were my first GCSE class nearly three years ago. In that regard it's the end of an era.

They have made me laugh and cry, sometimes in equal measure. They have frustrated and delighted. Their utter revulsion at the thought of doing fieldwork was one of my most challenging A2 moments, but the weeks we've spent on their coursework have been as strong a bonding experience all round as yomping around a field would have been. They have offers at a range of universities to study great things. As I do each year, I will be very tearful at the end of their Unit 5 exam, and the lab will feel a lot quieter for a while.

They are going to save the world, and it has been a privilege to teach them. Even if they are a load of big girls' blouses when it comes to poking a snail or two.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Practical Instructions

One of the Edexcel Unit 2 core practicals is the extraction of fibres from plants and the testing of their tensile strength. Students who have already done one of the AS physics practicals on Hooke's law should have had no trouble designing their own practicals, and I made sure there were physics students on each table to assist.

However, it occurred to me that the problem was not with biologists who didn't know physics, but with physicists who didn't know biology...


Why yes, that would be an entire stick of celery wedged between the bulldog clips. Extracting celery fibres. UR DOIN IT RONG.

Friday, 3 February 2012

ATP Means "A Tent Pole"

The A2s started respiration this week, and by this morning we were onto oxidative phosphorylation. They didn't care much for the gorgeous diagram I had up on the IWB, and they asked me to draw it out for them. So I did.


Put it this way - they'll never forget what ATP synthase looks like, will they?

Fortunately they were all on the ball with the comments, and we had such gems as:
"We're going to be shafted in this exam!"

"I feel like a bit of a knob..."

"Miss, stop dicking around!"
Was tempting to say "Don't feel intimidated, lads, it's only 10 nanometres long!", but one of them was already regretting his decision to apply for biochemistry degrees at university, so perhaps it was just as well I didn't.

Friday, 30 December 2011

Nekkid Lady Backbone Sculpture

This week I've been earning back the car's new exhaust by tutoring on a course. I've walked through Cavendish Square each morning, and noticed an interesting sculpture.


It's a human spine. Cavendish Square is noted for the presence of the Royal College of Nursing, and it is next to Harley Street, the street for private medical practices (though I do occasionally offer a "quack quack" under my breath passing some of the clinics...). So I had a closer look.


There are 24 vertebrae there, corresponding to the seven cervical, twelve thoracic and five lumbar vertebrae. Three curvatures can be seen (perhaps a little kyphotic!), the dorsal surfaces are facing left and the ventral surfaces are facing right. But hang on a minute, those are funny looking vertebrae - I mean, my mum's had as many back operations as I've had margaritas, but even her spine is in better nick! Time to find out what's going on here.


Oh. OH. Right, it's art. Let's make a spine out of decapitated female torsos. Umm. Oh look, there's a plaque to go along with the sculpture.


I suggest that, while you read that, you grab your cheek with your thumb and forefinger and pull it in and out really quickly. That'll give you the appropriate auditory accompaniment. In that it will sound like a load of pretentious wank.

It's apparently been there since May. I'm not someone who goes crazy over art. I stood in the final hall of the Tate Britain Watercolour exhibition earlier this year shrieking indignantly at Paul: "It's a teaspoon. A fucking teaspoon. Covered in paint. For fuck's sake!" And at the Royal Academy summer exhibition I nearly took the Pink Pen of Doom to Tracey Emin's "Me Too - Glad To Hear I'm A Happy Girl" to correct "your" to "you're".

However, if pretentious arses want to produce a load of shite and get paid to do it, then more power to them. I just hope the funding for Westminster's City of Sculpture has not been diverted from other budgets. I really feel that the arts must continue to receive funding (and we happily pay for RA membership to contribute in a small way to this), but what makes me uneasy is that this festival is in aid of the 2012 Olympics, and an awful lot of money has already been siphoned from more needy budgets into this yawning black hole.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

The Consequences Of No SRE Lessons

One of the unofficial roles I end up fulfilling as a biology lecturer is as a general go-to gal for discussion about sexual health. We don't have formal sex and relationship education (SRE) at the college, as all the students are post-16. We do, however, have two nurse-counsellors and an advisor from Brook who visits several times a week. Free condoms are available from the tutors, and periodically free chlamydia tests are offered.

My fellow teachers on Twitter, many of whom do have some SRE responsibility, are getting justifiably angry about a section on the Daily-Mail-in-liquid-form rant-fest BBC Sunday Morning Live (the link will only have a video associated with it up to 25 October though, so be quick), where the question was asked: "Is school sex education bad for our kids?".

One of the talking heads was Lynette Burrows, a woman who, dare I say, occasionally seems to make Melanie Phillips look like a moderate. She has form for saying awful stuff, and has been warned for homophobic comments, for example. She is the sister of Victoria Gillick, who campaigned for parents to be required to consent before children under the age of 16 could be given contraceptives (thankfully defeated - see Gillick competence). And she thinks parents should be able to smack their children.

So she is in favour of physical assault (the link above has her boast that she threatened to beat a boy "black and blue"), but she thinks that SRE is "talking dirty" and showing "dirty pictures", that it smacks of paedophilia, and that it will cause mental scarring. Plenty of teachers have been deeply offended by the accusation of paedophilia - read the further comments from Alice Hoyle, a SRE teacher who appeared via webcam to defend the teaching of sex and relationships, and consider complaining to the BBC - I will be as soon as this is published.

My mother-in-law is a primary school teacher. Most of what she and her colleagues teach as part of SRE involves the children being able to name parts of their body, understand that no one has a right to touch them in places not normally covered by their clothes, and form healthy friendships with their classmates. When I was at school, the "periods talk" came in Year 5, aged 9-10. With many girls beginning to menstruate at that age or younger, one could argue that needs to happen earlier - a friend of mine once said she had her menarche at the age of eight, before the school lessons and before her own mother had talked to her about periods. I believe it is imperative that children are told what will happen to them before it does - why would anyone want their daughter to be terrified out of their wits at finding themselves bleeding, perhaps quite heavily, from an area they don't even know how to describe?

I only teach the over-16s. The GCSE specification, when I taught it, was all about the menstrual cycle, contraception and IVF. There is naff all on the A-level specification, but there is a BTEC physiology unit on reproduction, among other phenomena. And that means there's an opportunity to review external and internal anatomy for both sexes, discuss the full spectrum of contraception, and actually talk more about what healthy relationships mean as a near-adult - that bit isn't on the specification, but it becomes almost impossible to separate out sex and relationships, so why try to maintain a split?


This is the age at which the "dirty pictures" are whipped out - no SRE teacher would dream of showing something like that to a child, though I am sure they are in the encyclopaedia if a particularly studious primary school child was interested (I know I read a lot of human anatomy books when I was younger). And here, when doing what I hoped would be a recap on previous knowledge, is where I get to see first-hand the consequences of having little or no SRE when at school.

Many of my female students do not realise they have a urethra, a vagina and an anus.

Some of them are from conservative, often religious families, and may have been withdrawn from SRE lessons at school, or attended a school that did not teach SRE (many have only recently arrived in the UK). These students are grown women - by the time they do Unit 12 they are in their second year at the college and they have mostly turned 18. I say it again - there are grown women who do not know their own bodies. Suggestions from me that they get a small mirror and, when alone and relaxed have a jolly good look, are met with horrified gasps. If I didn't teach them this, who would? Do their own mothers know that they have three orifices?

(As an aside, I am aware that some of my students may have been subjected to FGM, and I am sensitive to this, but that is a whole other discussion for another blog post.)

So if we don't teach SRE to children, much as we teach them literacy, numeracy and other skills they need in order to be a functioning member of society, and if there are parents who cannot or will not educate their children, we may be doomed to have a society full of women who think they urinate out of their vaginas. And that's before we even get on to talking about the men.

Sunday, 11 September 2011

Microteaches #5: Back In The Jug Agane

I'm determined to bash something out for the blog before teaching starts tomorrow. I couldn't think of anything suitably moving. I felt envious of The Learning Spy's department - his colleagues seemed a lot keener to embrace new technologies and to genuinely improve learning. Whereas I'm the only one in mine who knows what a QR code is. That's going to be an uphill struggle. I want to use them to put links to websites, facts and trivia, exam tips and videos around the labs for students to seek out. As an incentive I might even put the answers to the first AS Biology test up there.


For all the newness and shininess of a brand new building and lab, there are still snags. The skylight in the forensics lab is amazing and it's so bright and clean-looking in there. However, it's impossible to see the IWB. So I'm crippled in there, forced to resort to regular whiteboard and pens until they figure out how to put a horizontal blind across.

But I'm still really looking forward to teaching again. I met the new AS groups last week, and can't wait to get to know them properly. Each year I have relied on the ease and joy of teaching the A2 class to cancel out any bad bits. I've not seen many of the incoming A2 class yet, and as it's a class fed in from the two AS classes last year, there are still some students I've never taught before. They've got some big shoes to fill, as the classes of 2010 and 2011 were brilliant. They'll probably manage it.

This year I am less prepared than I have ever been for classes in terms of formal paperwork. Of my five hours' teaching tomorrow, two hours are going to be nothing more than getting to know the groups and handing out the assignment sheets. I have a practical to do with one group of students after that, then there are still some induction activities going on. Broadband conked out today for a bit, so I haven't done as much work as I wanted to. The good news is, lesson plans are overrated, and I can demonstrate that I have planned my lessons (the lab technicians looked at my requests for this week like I'd just given them each £500).

So the Year 1 forensic science students will be learning about the scientific method and the nature of science. There are some awesome ideas about it, many of which focus on evolution, so we can talk about what a theory really is. The Year 2 applied science students will be hacking away at a kidney later in the week, but they will be nervous about having a unit on plant sciences to study later in the year. Maybe they'll take a bit of notice if I give them some of the important questions that plant science may be able to answer. They might also get put off animal sciences when we do the physiology of the nervous system and muscle contraction, which I intend to demonstrate thus:


The AS students will be asked to help with @teachingofsci's exit questionnaire, to which I have assigned a shorter URL of bit.ly/physicsQ, as they'll never remember the full URL. We had a lot of students take physics this year - enough for two groups at long last - so we might not have so many non-physicists, but it's worth a go.

I'm looking for CPD. I'm going to see if I can extract some money to go to the ASE 2012 conference (hey, they'd have paid for me to go to Las Vegas for SVP, so they'd better pay for me to go to Liverpool!). I'm going to try to be more involved in the two blog carnivals I love most: Scientiae and the Accretionary Wedge. This is of course if the management lay off the Trial By Ordeal daily meeting regime of the past fortnight. I'll be taking Tom Bennett's School Bullshit Bingo card into the next meeting with me. The phrase "sharing best practice" is like fingernails down a blackboard. I have no problem with the action it signifies, but the phrase sucks.

See you in October, I guess...

Friday, 19 August 2011

Clearing Up Afterwards

It's all over for the year now. Yesterday was A-level results day, and really the last time I'll see my outgoing A2s. Considering some of the hurdles they've had to overcome (medical, financial, social, legal), they did brilliantly, and I'm really proud of them. Three Bs, three Cs, two Ds and an E. They seem happy enough, even those who have had to go through Clearing, as they have degrees that will set them up for good careers, and even trying for graduate entry to medicine. It's possible that, in a decade's time, if I should be in hospital and see one of them appear at the end of my bed to treat me, I won't recoil in horror at the memory of their dissection skills.

My first phone call of the day came at 6:02am, from Traumatised Student #1. Followed by e-mails from Traumatised Students #2 and #3 less than 10 minutes' later. Then a phone call an hour after that from #2. Into college and a tweet and a text from Traumatised Student #4. Down to the registry and Traumatised Student #5 and his sister were already phoning universities. Then in rolled Traumatised Student #6, followed by #4. Traumatised Student #3 later came to say goodbye and to get last minute advice about part-time degree courses. All this before 11am. Plus the AS students, who were all trying to avoid making eye contact.

I was bought pizza for lunch by #4, and given a Snickers ice cream by #2. I would not have survived much longer otherwise. Then I took the A2s to see the new labs, which they will never get to use, and for old times' sake, they asked if they could put Steve in a compromising position:


The use of the dog skeleton was a novel take on an old joke. I presume the measuring cylinder is some sort of crude dildo.

At the time of writing, I think they're mostly sorted. I'll check with their tutor on Monday. It's only with the knowledge that they have a university place confirmed that I feel able to relinquish my sense of responsibility for them. It's harder saying goodbye to this year group than the last, maybe because I taught them for 4.5 hours a week, rather than 2.5. Maybe it's because they called me Mum and convinced Nandos it was my birthday. Maybe it's because I have actually had two of them cry on my shoulder. Maybe it's because they're almost as fabulously nerdy as me. And maybe it's just because they left Steve in the lab shagging a dog skeleton in an X-rated version of "Funny Bones".

They have contact cards for me so they can get in touch even if I should move to a new college - the cards were declared to be "sick" (I did clarify - they're "sick-good" rather than "sick-bad"). And I had time to play (and lose) a game of foosball with them.

As one class of students spread their wings and clumsily flap away, I'm barely allowed to take a breath before turning my attention to the incoming class. I'm better prepared, I'm qualified and I taught half of them last year. I'm sharing the class, so I teach them all photosynthesis, climate change, the carbon cycle and speciation, then plant sensitivity, muscle contraction, exercise, injury and performance enhancement. That'll be a rude awakening for the gym bunnies, especially if any of you can find me a set of photos that I can use with the caption "These are your testicles; these are your testicles on anabolic steroids"...

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Feeling Horny

My maternal grandparents' house was an amazing place. As soon as you walked through their front door you were in a hall covered in brassware. There was a sideboard with a full set of willow pattern china, dark varnished oak cabinets, a large gong (!) and some armchairs. It served as a waiting room when my GP grandfather saw patients in his study. Above the sideboards and cabinets, on the walls, hung a load of stuffed animal heads. Honestly I can't remember whether it was my grandmother's father or my grandfather's father who acquired them. Both worked in parts of Africa, as a civil engineer and a veterinarian respectively. There were antelopes, gazelles, no doubt all manner of "boks", and a couple of buffalo horns.

My grandmother had a little black book of all the things they had, and which of their children or grandchildren was to have which items once they died. Grannie left me all their maps of Shropshire, the county they had made home, and in which I was born. She also offered me the pick of the animal heads. Most of the full heads were in need of a lot of work (missing eyes, ripped skin etc), and I couldn't have afforded to do this. So I chose the five mounted sets of horns.

Yesterday I finally got round to hanging them up in my lounge.


And you can see some of the maps too:


So what have I got? I know the two above the doors are African buffalo, Syncerus caffer:

  

I think this one is a Grant's gazelle, Nanger granti, as the horns are enormous:


But it's these two bothering me:

  

I'm not too great on mammal identification. With the help of Ultimate Ungulate I think I've narrowed them down to perhaps impala (Aepyceros melampus) or gerenuk (Litocranius walleri). You should be able to click through to larger images of them. Maybe one of my loyal readers is more clued-up on their bovids than I am and can help identify them from my crappy photographs...

Friday, 22 July 2011

A Schoolboy Error (NSFW)

One of the things I lament most about the syllabus is the lack of human anatomy incorporated into classes. It is perfectly possible to do both GCSE and A-level biology without mentioning any reproductive kit save for the ovaries and testes. Is it any wonder, therefore, that standards of anatomical drawing have dropped?

I was alerted, by my father of all people, to the highly amusing prank played by some of the young gentlemen (for it is only ever young gentlemen) at Fairfield College in New Zealand. Now, I would never condone the use of weedkiller as a means of playing such pranks - how about sowing some brightly coloured flower seeds instead?


In any case, as I have done with my own students upon discovering their CDCs (crudely drawn cocks), I must take to task these lads, not only for dubious anatomy (what on earth is going on in with the one in the very bottom of the screen?), but also for failure to grasp how to truly draw a CDC.


Now, now, boys. To properly draw a CDC, the meatus should connect entirely with the corona. This half-arsed job is simply not good enough. As defined by B3ta, it should also have precisely "three pubes per bollock". You have drawn no hairs at all. A CDC should also, ideally, be ejaculating. You can show this by drawing a curved dashed line from the external urethral orifice out in the direction of your choice.


Please consider the above to be the model diagram to use for next time. If you can arrange for it to be done in magenta, then even better - perhaps investigate the use of bright pink flower seeds? My students all know how to draw proper CDCs, so I feel it's only right that I should pass on the art to others who are not fortunate enough to have me teaching them biology.
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