Banded bullfrogs, native to Southeast Asia (and not yet endangered), on their thrones of chanterelle, lobster and shiitake mushrooms.
For ages, they have been symbols in human culture — of fertility, gastronomy and now the alt-right movement. But these noble amphibians are declining in numbers.
The headline is, at once, depressing, serving as one of the many coals on the simmering fire that will burn together to end our planet. It’s a good read anyway. Colorful, and uncommonly deep, on the subjects of conservation, respect for living things, and endangerment. All too familiar, and, like most outcomes of the past, likely to get worse.
By Ligaya Mishan, Via NYTimes
THE DUSKY GOPHER FROG, once endemic to the longleaf pine savannas of Mississippi, Alabama and Louisiana — and now listed among the 100 most endangered species on earth — is tiny, dark and warty. The creature is often described as both secretive and shockingly loud, with a rumbling, back-of-the-throat mating call that is uncannily close to the human snore. It hides from the sun almost its whole life, finding shelter in burned-out tree stumps. And although it’s armed against danger (its glands secrete poison), in the presence of a predator, the three-inch-long frog lifts its front legs to cover its eyes, like a child pretending to be invisible: You can’t see it if it can’t see you.
As of 2015, around 135 dusky gopher frogs were estimated to remain in the wild, mostly at a single pond in Mississippi, their breeding sites fragmented by new roads and the timber industry. The fate of the species may lie in the hands of the Supreme Court, which, as it begins a new term in October, will consider as its first case Weyerhaeuser Co. v. United States Fish and Wildlife Service. The lawsuit concerns the government’s designation of privately owned land in Louisiana as a critical habitat for the endangered frogs, setting property rights (and a potential $34 million loss in development value for the $27 billion Weyerhaeuser Company) against environmental conservation.
One study estimates that since the 1970s, around 200 frog species have disappeared, with a projected loss of hundreds more in the next century. Frogs are under threat on nearly every continent: from the French Pyrenees to the Central American rain forests to the Sierra Nevada in California. Some species, like the dusky gopher frog, have been depleted by human encroachment on their habitats. But the decimation that started 50 years ago was largely the work of the chytrid fungus Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis, which thickens a frog’s skin, hindering the animal’s ability to absorb water and oxygen and to maintain a balanced flow of electrolytes, leading to heart failure. Once infected, entire populations can collapse in a single season.
No one knows exactly how the disease spread, but it was likely carried unwittingly by humans from one country to the next, or by the female African clawed frogs that were shipped around the world for laboratory experiments and, until the early 1970s, hospital pregnancy tests. (In the test, a frog was injected with a woman’s urine, which, if she was pregnant, would contain an ovary-stimulating hormone that caused the frog to lay eggs.) Live frogs, potential carriers of the disease, continue to be moved across borders into nonnative habitats; in the first decade of the 21st century, the United States imported nearly 48 million pounds of them, some destined to become exotic pets, others winding up on dining tables.
More than three billion frogs are eaten worldwide each year, some 4,000 tons by the French and half that by Americans, who tend to prefer them patted with flour and sautéed in browned butter. These are mostly farmed frogs and thus not as vulnerable to extinction, but the circumstances in which they’re bred and exported may contribute to the spread of disease. And while in some parts of Asia the whole frog — minus the skin, which contains toxins — is submitted to the pot and boiled for soup, in many cases only the hind legs are used for food, meaning the bulk of the body goes into the garbage.
According to one study, around 200 frog species have disappeared since the 1970s.
Photographs by Kyoko Hamada. Styled by Victoria Petro-Conroy.
It’s an ignoble end for an animal that, despite its diminutive size, has held an exalted role over the ages in almost every culture. Frogs have been revered as emissaries of the divine (because of their regenerative powers) and feared as witches’ familiars, noxious and baleful. They have also been beloved as our stand-ins, infiltrating the stories we tell about ourselves, appearing as tricksters and fools, pompous kings and yearning commoners. Their value isn’t merely symbolic: Their croaks were the music in hundreds of early Japanese verses, until the 17th-century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho gave them physical presence — and comic power — in the famous 1686 haiku: “Old pond / Frog jumps in / Water-sound.” Their omnipresence in our fables speaks to their centrality in sustaining the world around us. In science class, they are our introduction to biology, dissected to reveal life’s inner mysteries. Toxins in their skin may yield new antibiotics and painkillers.
More fundamentally, frogs are linchpins in the ecosystem, both predator and prey. And they are our watchmen, keeping vigil over our ponds, marshes, lakes and streams, our meadows and our woods, the quality of our water and our air. “If they go silent, there could be bad stuff happening,” says Christopher J. Raxworthy, a herpetologist at the American Museum of Natural History in New York. Like honeybees, whose colonies began to collapse en masse across the United States a decade ago, frogs are portents of the greater ills that could befall our environment — and us.
AS AMPHIBIANS, frogs lead double lives, in water and on land, starting out as tadpoles equipped with gills and tails, which are reabsorbed into their bodies as they grow lungs and limbs. The seasonal emergence of frogs prophesies rain, essential for crops and survival, and their role in spring’s awakening may explain why early Christians used images of them to celebrate resurrection. In frogs’ prodigious fertility — they lay tens of thousands of eggs each mating season — the ancient Egyptians saw abundance; the goddess of fertility, Heqet, is often depicted as a frog-headed woman, and the hieroglyph for the numeral 100,000 was a tadpole. But too many frogs, and they become a plague.
It’s this duality that has ultimately endeared them to us, for these creatures hold out the promise of human transformation, the ability to shed an ugly skin and reveal a hidden self. Part of the appeal of Kermit the Frog is his status as an Everyman: small, far from powerful, but pure of heart. Even his latter-day counterpart Pepe the Frog was originally a good-natured slacker, first drawn in a 2005 comic strip by Matt Furie, before being co-opted as a symbol of the alt-right movement, whose members seem to have conflated Pepe with Kek, the frog-headed Egyptian god representing the darkness before the world was born. (Furie killed off Pepe last year to prevent further misappropriation.)
Another cultural invasion of frogs occurred last winter, when one of the most downloaded smartphone apps in Asia was Tabikaeru (Journey Frog), a game featuring an amphibian that spends much of its time reading in a cozy hut, then wanders off for an indeterminate amount of time, occasionally sending home snapshots. This unfolds without any human input; players do little more than pack food for the frog’s journeys and pine for the little nomad to come back — a comforting inevitability, as kaeru, the Japanese word for frog, sounds almost exactly like the word for return. Tabikaeru is particularly popular in China, where the characters for frog and child are both pronounced “wa” in Mandarin, with only a slight difference in tone.
BUT THESE VIRTUAL FROGS may soon be all we have left. The rate of decline is particularly startling given that, until now, amphibians have outlasted most of life on Earth. “They’re survivors,” says Jennifer B. Pramuk, a herpetologist and animal curator at the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle, Wash. Their ancestors evolved some 350 million years ago, and they have persisted through three global mass extinctions, including the Permian extinction 251 million years ago, which is known among scientists as the Great Dying because of the number of species lost: an estimated 80 to 96 percent in the oceans and 70 percent on land. Frogs — which separated from salamanders and emerged as a distinct order, Anura, between 240 and 275 million years ago — have been resilient, but their permeable skins are highly sensitive to changes in water quality and temperature.
When we grieve over frogs’ loss and the global degradation it suggests, we’re also mourning a kind of strange, singular natural beauty. Among those now extinct is the golden toad, of which the males were orange-skinned and bright as flame, once prolific breeders in the Monteverde cloud forest of Costa Rica. In 1989, a single male was counted. The next year, there were none. The southern gastric brooding frog, indigenous to the mountains of Queensland in eastern Australia, thrilled herpetologists with its unusual reproductive system: Females swallowed their eggs, which hatched in the stomach, only to be vomited into the world as fully formed froglets. The creature’s final appearance was in 1981.
Conservation efforts have succeeded in reviving a few species. Not long after the Kihansi spray toad, sunny yellow and smaller than a postage stamp, lost its home in the misty wetlands of Tanzania to a hydroelectric dam in 2000, 499 of them were airlifted to the Bronx Zoo. Within three years, only two toads were left at the original Tanzanian site. But by 2010, the rescued toads had spawned a thriving 4,000-strong population at the Bronx Zoo and the Toledo Zoo in Ohio; 2,500 were reintroduced to Tanzania two years later. Zoos may be the key to frogs’ survival, not only nurturing but proselytizing for them, so that a charmed public recognizes their worth.
Without frogs as a predator, mosquitoes and other invertebrates, themselves carriers of disease, will multiply. “It’s another chink in the armor of the ecosystem,” Pramuk says. Gone, too, will be the spring choruses, frogs calling for their mates. Pramuk still remembers when she finally made it to the Costa Rican cloud forest in 1995, six years after the sighting of the last golden toad, one of her favorite species, which she’d studied only on paper. She had hope: Sometimes amphibians thought extinct have suddenly reappeared. “You always think, ‘Maybe it will show itself to me,’” she says. So she stood and waited, listening to the silence. Frogs are the heralds of dusk, their evening song laying the day to rest. Without them, it is only night.
Hitler in Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will” (1935), a “documentary” largely staged. Credit: The Film Preserve
Uh huh…a major buzzkill. But, it happened. Uh huh…yeah. Translation not necessary. Only the stamped memory and awareness of what followed. The 4:43 trailer is all but enough to watch, but there’s nearly two hours more of it in the finished film, reflecting the near decade of real life horror. A cold look at history would show this is just another serving of humanity’s dark side, spanning nothing less than centuries more of equal atrocities. What do we do with that, then?
Critics Consensus: Triumph of the Will is impossible to separate from its repugnant political context — and impossible to deny as a powerfully made piece of cinematic propaganda.
Five years ago, Finca El Valle, a small, family-run coffee farm south of Antigua, Guatemala, was producing 140,000 pounds of superior-quality Arabica for a select handful of America’s premier specialty-coffee roasters.
An outbreak of coffee leaf rust, caused by the fungus Hemileia vastatrix, hit the celebrated coffee-producing region in 2012, and by 2014 it had infected the entire farm. That year El Valle harvested a meager 28,000 pounds of coffee, an 80 percent drop. The next harvests were even smaller. With the lowest coffee prices in a dozen years, reviving the farm has been deeply challenging.
“We are in the middle of the biggest coffee crisis of our time,” said the Guatemalan producer and exporter Josué Morales, who works with over 1,300 growers.
Central America, where smallholders with less than 7.5 acres of land produce 80 percent of the region’s coffee, has been particularly hard hit by rust. Some 70 percent of the farms have been affected, and over 1.7 million coffee workers have lost their jobs. Many are leaving the coffee lands to find work elsewhere.
“The problem is not just the rust; it’s the rust and catastrophically low coffee prices,” says Stuart McCook, author of the upcoming Coffee is Not Forever: A Global History of the Coffee Rust. “It’s difficult for farmers to weather both.”
For observers of coffee history such as McCook there are strong parallels to another outbreak.
In 1869, Sri Lanka (then known as Ceylon) was one of the world’s largest coffee producers, exporting over 100 million pounds annually. A new railway connected the coffee-producing center with the coast, a steady flow of cheap labor was coming from South India, and market prices were high. With a growing global demand for coffee, the future of the island’s principle industry seemed assured.
Louis C.K., the comic who in November admitted to having masturbated in front of female colleagues, tested out new material recently at the Comedy Cellar.
Thoughtfully written. Asks questions that need answering.
He’s baaa-aaack. Louis C.K., the comic who in November admitted to having masturbated in front of female colleagues, climbed back onstage and tested out new material at the Comedy Cellar on Sunday night. “Comeback” is not the right word for what is being floated here. A comeback implies a hero’s journey — an adventure, a transformation, a triumphant return. This feels more like a malignancy. We try to cut men like him out of public life, but nine months later, we get a call with the bad news.
The spotlight Louis C.K. stepped back into must have felt dim enough. He took the stage for 15 minutes in front of 115 people or so. But fame — or infamy — can’t be contained by space and time. The audience for an intimate set is now the world. What he says to the crowd he says to all of us. If we don’t like a television show, we can change the channel, but we can’t turn off our awareness of a media figure, not anymore. The thundering echo chamber built by mass and social media ensures that we’ll be conscious of his every move.
When Louis C.K. performed that set, he slithered back into our minds. He strode into the sightline of his fellow comedians, of the women who have been harassed and belittled and silenced at work, and of all the other people who were just going about their days and minding their own business. He plopped himself right down in the middle of the public consciousness and shared his thoughts about, reportedly, parades. He became a thing we had to deal with.
The burden, of course, weighs heaviest on the women he targeted in the first place. Whenever a harasser resurfaces, his victims’ names are publicly reattached to him, the things he did reanimated and trotted back out. These women are bombarded with demands and threats and inquiries like, Hello, I am a producer from “X Morning Show,” can you please follow me back so that I can formally request that you get into a black car and put on a coral lipstick and tell the cameras about the worst thing that ever happened to you? Does a 7 a.m. call time work?
So what do we do with the men who have scurried out of the limelight since the Harvey Weinstein story broke last fall and the floodgates opened? Anyone who publicly expresses discomfort with Louis C.K.’s reappearance has inevitably been pressured to resolve the entire extrajudicial framework of wrongs in 2018: If he can’t tell jokes at the Comedy Cellar, where can he? Should he just never appear in public again? Stop working? Live under a bridge? Die?
Anyone willing to seriously grapple with these questions should send an invoice to the culture. It’s exhausting to even think about how much effort we will expend puzzling over these glamorous celebrity spokesmen of the offender class. After all, we are only really capable of banishing them to one place, which is a very nice home where they can live out the rest of their days eating their money.
Still, the question is a little bit interesting. These men represent a facet of abuse that we haven’t figured out how to address. It’s not just that these men abused people, or that they abused their power. When a celebrity offends, it affects more than just his direct targets. The act expands and refracts across the culture. All of the energy the public has invested in this person — the time we spent taking his art seriously, laughing at his jokes, growing close to his persona, processing our lives through his stories — curdles into the grotesque realization of our unwitting complicity in his abuse. What do we do with that?
The potential remedies floated by some feminist commentators in recent days are telling. If Louis C.K. is looking for redemption he should go tell his jokes at a “nursing home or a hospital or a homeless shelter.” Or he should give up and apply for a job at the Gap. Banning bad men from creative fields and offloading them on retail workers and the elderly hardly seems like the best way to prevent future harm. There are many shades of power still available to these men and as many methods for them to abuse it. What these provocations do suggest is that we are grasping for a punishment that seeks to mend a more psychic, public wound — a type of harm we are still processing ourselves.
We are, it’s often noted, living in an economy of attention. We assign value to things by allotting our hours and minutes: the videos we watch, the people we notice, the tabs we open and the ones we close. The idea, suggested by some this week, that Louis C.K. has “served his time” is very funny, because of course he hasn’t experienced what that usually means, which is going toprison. But it’s just a little apt, too. When our greatest commodity is attention, one way to conceive of societal payment is for an abuser to simply refrain from calling attention to himself; to give us the time to not think of him at all.
This is why costume jewelry is best avoided. Certainly, anything from China.Stick with quality metals and designs from individual artisans, you know, or at least, have a reputation.
October 11, 2018, CBS News
LOS ANGELES — Jewelry with the toxic metal cadmium is showing up on the shelves of national retailers including Ross, Nordstrom Rack and Papaya, according to newly released test results.
Analysis done for the nonprofit Center for Environmental Health revealed some jewelry sold with women’s dresses and shirts was nearly pure cadmium, which can cause cancer and reproductive harm after prolonged exposure.
Consumer advocates were hopeful cadmium had disappeared from the U.S. jewelry market following changes prompted by a 2010 Associated Press investigation that found Chinese manufacturers were using the metal to make kids’ jewelry. States including California outlawed cadmium in children’s jewelry, and testing by the center found the chemical had virtually disappeared from jewelry by 2012.
No laws address cadmium in adult jewelry, however, and last year the center decided to check those products. Lab testing found 31 adult jewelry items purchased from retail stores were at least 40 percent cadmium, and most were more than 90 percent, according to results shared exclusively with the AP.
California’s law allows no more than 0.03 percent cadmium in children’s jewelry. The precise health risk from the tested jewelry is unclear because researchers did not assess whether small amounts shed when the jewelry is handled and worn.
Over time, cadmium accumulates in the body and can damage the kidneys and bones. Most exposure happens by ingesting small amounts or by breathing it, most commonly through tobacco, which can contain cadmium. Researchers also have documented some absorption through skin contact, though the phenomenon is not well-studied.
Michael Harbut, a practicing doctor who as a university professor has researched cadmium’s cancer-causing properties, noted that contact can trigger skin rashes including psoriasis.
“Cadmium is bad,” said Harbut, who teaches at Michigan State University’s College of Human Medicine. “Given a choice between wearing something with cadmium in it, or wearing something without cadmium in it, I would take the product without cadmium.”
The Oakland-based nonprofit bought all the test samples in the San Francisco Bay Area this year or last. The extent to which contaminated jewelry is in stores elsewhere isn’t clear, though a national retailer would not typically limit a product to just one region.
The center said the problem should not be underestimated because of the limited market sampling.
“If you’re the person that buys and is wearing that jewelry, you don’t really care whether it’s a common problem or a rare problem,” said Caroline Cox, senior scientist at the center. “You have a problem.”
Brent Cleaveland, executive director of the Fashion Jewelry and Accessories Trade Association, said he does not believe the test results suggest a larger problem. Most major retailers have a stringent system for testing and analyzing what they sell, he said.
Most of the tainted items were sold at Ross, which operates more than 1,400 stores in 38 states. One pendant from a necklace chain was 100 percent cadmium, according to the testing.
In a written statement, Ross said it is committed to protecting its customers and has “addressed this issue with our supplier.” The retailer would not say whether it pulled suspect jewelry from stores.
The brands found with high cadmium levels in Ross stores include Tacera and Vibe Sportswear.
Xinwei Xie, chief executive officer at Trend Textile Inc., which owns Tacera, declined to comment when reached by phone. The Skate Group Inc., which owns Vibe Sportswear, did not respond to multiple requests for comment.
Papaya said it considers cadmium in its products a serious problem. It operates more than 100 retail locations nationwide.
Steven Kim, an attorney representing Papaya, said the company has recalled the products where contamination was found and stopped buying from the manufacturer in China.
“Our manufacturers are required to represent and warrant that their products are in legal compliance,” Kim said. “Papaya is very strict and stops doing business with any manufacturer which fails to comply.”Nordstrom spokeswoman Emily Sterken said the company is “reaching out to these vendors to make them aware of the situation and get more information on these items.”The Center for Environmental Health has long used California law to force companies to reduce levels of harmful materials in consumer products, including cadmium and lead in jewelry.
Under the state’s Proposition 65, businesses must inform consumers about significant exposures to chemicals that cause cancer or other reproductive harm. The nonprofit has settled Proposition 65 claims against 36 companies, including Gap Inc. and Target Corp., which agreed to not sell jewelry with more than 0.03 percent cadmium.
That limit for children’s jewelry took effect after the AP reported in 2010 that some Chinese jewelry manufacturers were substituting cadmium for lead, the use of which Congress clamped down on following a string of imported-product safety scandals.
The jewelry industry helped write voluntary U.S. standards following the AP investigation, but the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission did not mandate any cadmium limits.
