Don Cherry

Clad in matching nylon workout pants and jacket, looking like he might be preparing to coach a game later that afternoon, the seventh-greatest Canadian of all time makes his way up through the stands at the Hershey Centre in the western Toronto suburb of Mississauga.

Though he hasn't coached a National Hockey League game in 26 years, this is still Don Cherry's element — the hockey rink. He has spent most of his 72 years in places like this, actually having helped design the Hershey Centre for the major junior team he once owned and briefly coached here. But for all of that time spent behind benches and in dressing rooms and in front of microphones in similar places, Cherry remains an iconoclast, a controversial figure sometimes improbably isolated from the game to which he has given so much of his life.

Take this picture-perfect day in early August.

He has come to visit with longtime friend and former minor-pro teammate Brian Kilrea, the most successful coach in the history of Canadian junior hockey, who, at the moment, is otherwise engaged -- he's taping a new segment that will air this season on "Hockey Night in Canada." Think Hockey will break down various elements of the game with the help of well-known hockey personalities such as Kilrea, Adam Graves, Paul Maurice, Bryan Murray and Wendel Clark. It will be hosted by Ron MacLean, Cherry's co-host on Coach's Corner, the wildly popular longtime centerpiece of "Hockey Night."

Noticeably absent from the segment is Cherry. Somehow, when it comes to Think Hockey, Cherry is persona non grata, a most improbable state of affairs, considering his credentials:

• In 2004, he was named the seventh-greatest Canadian of all time, ahead of Wayne Gretzky and Alexander Graham Bell, in an exhaustive Canadian Broadcasting Company poll that drew 140,000 votes.
• He coached more than 500 NHL games, including two Stanley Cup finals.
• He is the most-watched personality on Canadian television and arguably the single-most influential voice in Canadian hockey, despite appearing on camera for less than seven minutes once a week during the NHL's regular season. Even the Canadian Press, the country's national wire service, has someone tape Coach's Corner every Saturday and write a story if Cherry says anything controversial.

How popular and consequential is he?

"It's a real hard thing to describe," admits Joel Darling, executive director of "Hockey Night in Canada" and, thus, Cherry's de facto boss. "He's the most recognized face in Canada. It's like traveling with a rock star, the Rolling Stones, except he's bigger than them in this country."

"It's like if you took John Madden and overlaid him with Rush Limbaugh," adds Calgary-based columnist, author and broadcaster Bruce Dowbiggin, one of Cherry's frequent critics. "It's become larger than life. I don't think there's any position in the U.S. that equates to it."

So why is Cherry sitting off to the side of the ice, shooting the breeze with a reporter, instead of shooting Think Hockey with the CBC, his pal Kilrea and the rest of the gang?

Well, maybe that has to do with a "credential" that hasn't been mentioned yet — Cherry's propensity to infuriate and alienate at least as often as he illuminates. Over the years, from his bully pulpit on Coach's Corner, firing from the lip at anything that moves, he has managed to enrage a long list of folks including but not limited to: his bosses at the CBC, French Canadians, European players in general, Swedes and Russians in particular, players who wear visors, and members of the media by whom he is regularly poleaxed.

So perhaps the surprise is not that he is unwelcome to join the fun at Think Hockey. Perhaps the surprise is that, after all these years of force-feeding polarizing commentary to a country where, at least from the outside, civility seems to be highly prized, Don Cherry still has a job at all.

At the end of this gorgeous August day, as Cherry makes his way to the ice to swap a few stories with his pal Kilrea, we are left to ponder a simple question: How is this possible?

Maybe as good a place as any to start trying to figure out how all of this happened is when Cherry first came in contact with the game he loves.

Born in Kingston, Ontario, in 1934, Cherry wasn't blessed with either size or enormous talent, but he played the game on the edge. He pursued his dream of being an NHL player with that same in-your-face attitude. A bruising, brawling defenseman, Cherry left high school at the age of 14 and chased his hockey dream across North America — Windsor, Barrie, Hershey, Springfield, Trois Rivieres, Kitchener-Waterloo, Sudbury, Spokane, Rochester, Tulsa.

Along the way, Cherry met a young woman named Rosemarie Madelyn Martini, then 17, in Hershey, Pa. On their first date, Cherry took Rose to one of his hockey games. True to form, he was involved in a bloody fight.

Rose always said her father thought Canadian hockey players were the most uncivilized people, and Cherry did little to dissuade him from this point of view. Yet Cherry also was capable of uncharacteristic sensitivity, especially when it came to how much his love for hockey cost his family. In a tribute to his late wife for the Rose Cherry Home, a hospice for children, in Milton, Ontario, Cherry wrote:

If you believe it, Rose packed and moved 53 times. The minor career is a tough life for families; one bedroom; [daughter] Cindy slept on a mattress on the floor, and bathed in the kitchen sink; toilets were in the cellar with cold air blowing through holes in the walls; so cold you had to have blankets around you when you had to go; it was not pretty.

In Springfield, come back to our apartment after game on the road, Rose curled up in bed, the place alive with mice and rats.

The point I'm trying to make is Rose Cherry's Home for Kids is named after a person who never quit …

And what he really meant, of course, is that Rose never quit on him.

Cherry retired from hockey for the first time from the game following the 1968-69 American Hockey League season. Having given up a less-than-lucrative second career as the world's worst Cadillac salesman, Cherry turned out to be better suited to a pickax and jackhammer, so he took a construction job with Kodak in Rochester, N.Y. As St. Patrick's Day approached, Cherry, a devout Protestant, thought it would be a good idea to paint his tools and hard hat orange — a decision that, not surprisingly, didn't sit too well with his mostly Catholic co-workers.

"I put 'God Save The Queen' on the back of my hard hat," Cherry says, still getting a grand chuckle out of the stunt almost 40 years later. "I was always like that."

During the 1971-72 season, Cherry indulged in one last kick at the can as a player. It didn't really satisfy — he was a healthy scratch most nights for the Rochester Americans. With the team struggling, ownership figured they might as well get their money's worth out of Cherry and installed him as coach midway through the season.

The effect was like somebody introducing Michelangelo to his first piece of marble. "As soon as I got behind the bench, I knew I was born for it," Cherry says.

At the end of the season, Cherry the player was released, but team owners had been impressed by his coaching and quickly offered him the permanent job at $15,000 for the next season. Rose wondered why her husband didn't ask to be the general manager, as well. So Cherry called back and got his wish — but no more money.

Cherry guided the Americans for parts of three seasons, earning the AHL's Coach of the Year honors once and the opportunity that had been denied him as a player — a real chance at the big time. In the fall of 1974, he took over as head coach of the Boston Bruins.

By then, Cherry had earned a reputation as a stylishly dressed, ultra-theatrical bench boss, an uncannily accurate foreshadowing of his TV career. Part of his leadership style derived from his fascination with historic military leaders, especially Lord Horatio Nelson, known for bold action and a disregard of orders, and Sir Francis Drake, a hero and pirate. For Cherry, coaching a hockey team was like captaining a naval vessel — you had not only to act the part but also look the part. "I always thought of a team as a ship," Cherry says. "Everybody has to pull together. One weak cog and you've had it. I sort of learned from Drake and Nelson how to treat men."

Under Cherry's idiosyncratic guidance, the Bruins finished first in the Adams Division four straight seasons. In the '77 and '78 Stanley Cup finals, they lost to the hated Montreal Canadiens. For his efforts, Cherry earned a Jack Adams Award as coach of the year in 1975-76 and was selected as an assistant coach to Canada's entry in the 1976 Canada Cup. The rough-and-tumble Cherry was on top of the world.

Then, in a span of less than two minutes at the end of the seventh game of the third round of the 1979 playoffs, Cherry would see it all vanish. His Bruins led the mighty Montreal Canadiens by a goal with less than two minutes to play in the seventh and deciding game of the semifinals, when Boston was assessed a penalty for too many men on the ice. A man up, Montreal tied the game, then drove the dagger home in overtime. The Habs went on to win their fourth straight Stanley Cup, while Bruins GM Harry Sinden, with whom Cherry had feuded, canned the popular coach.

Next season, Cherry coached the Colorado Rockies, posting the worst record in the league, and was dismissed after yet another conflict with management. His coaching career was at an end, leaving Cherry and many other observers to wonder: What if the fateful penalty never occurs?

What if Bill Buckner makes that play? What if Scott Norwood isn't wide, right? What if Steve Bartman stays away from Wrigley that night?

"We'd have won the Stanley Cup and then Harry wouldn't have been able to fire me," Cherry says without hesitation. "My life might have been a little different. They liked me in Boston. We were tough. We were a Boston team. I was like a Southie to them. I was heavier. I had a big face. I'd say things."

He'd say things? If ever there was an understatement, that is it. Cherry's penchant for speaking his mind, the cost be damned, is what sparked longtime "Hockey Night in Canada" executive producer Ralph Mellanby to call Cherry and make him an offer that would change everything, for Cherry, for the country, maybe even for the game.

With Cherry's Colorado Rockies out of the Stanley Cup playoffs in the spring of 1980, Mellanby asked Cherry if he would provide analysis on television during the postseason. Almost immediately Cherry began to offend.

Among other things, Cherry critiqued coaches' wardrobes as much as their game plans. Canadian media critics quickly weighed in, denouncing Cherry's propensity for descriptors like "geez" and "youse" and "attaboys" as low-brow, hardly the sort of thing that kids should be listening to on the publicly funded CBC. Owners soon threatened to bar Cherry from their buildings. A great obliterating snowball seemed to be rolling down the hill of Canadian hockey culture.

"Never mind lasting 25 years, I didn't think he'd last 25 minutes," says Mellanby, who is fond of repeating the oft-quoted line that Canada has two official languages, French and English, "and Cherry is the biggest star on Canadian television who doesn't speak either of them."

But Cherry's discoverer and enabler was also his staunchest defender. In response to calls for Cherry to get the heave-ho, Mellanby told CBC brass that if Cherry went, he was gone, too. Both men stayed, though there were palliative changes. On the theory that a small dose of Cherry was less difficult to swallow than a full game's worth, he was moved from game commentary to Coach's Corner, a brief segment that runs during first period intermission.

"They figured, 'How can he get into trouble?'" Cherry says, an impish grin crossing his face. "They didn't know."

For perhaps the first and only time in his life, Cherry played it safe, breaking down plays and explaining the nuances of the game. But it wasn't what Cherry wanted, nor, as it would turn out, what viewers wanted, either. "It was kind of stupid," Cherry recalls. "I was just doing it to keep the job."

Then, he saw a clip of an old interview he had given when he was with the Bruins about what it would mean to win the Stanley Cup. Most of the answers dealt with boyhood dreams, but at one point Cherry deadpanned that he wanted to win the Cup for the money.

That was it! That was the tone he wanted to bring to Coach's Corner — irreverent, brutally honest, cutting, controversial. "For me, that's the way I had to do it. I couldn't just survive otherwise," Cherry says. "I knew I was taking an awful chance, but I didn't care."

What has followed has been 25 years of some of the greatest sports theater anywhere, not to mention some of the most memorable, contentious moments in Canadian broadcast history.

There was the night that Cherry, asked about Winnipeg Jets assistant coach Alpo Suhonen, quipped, "Alpo? Isn't that a dog food?" The remark prompted the team's owner, Barry Shenkarow, to call Cherry a racist and threaten to sue him.

Cherry has often savaged European players for being soft, returning to that theme as recently as the opening segments of the current season.

He has repeatedly enraged French Canadians, calling into question their heart and love for their country. Referring to the French translation of the Memorial Cup, Coupe Memorial, Cherry once famously quipped, "What's that? A car giveaway?" Cherry also referred to freestyle skier Jean-Luc Brassard, chosen as the country's flag-bearer at the 1998 Olympics, as "a French guy, some skier nobody knows about." Predictably, French Canadian politicians repeatedly have complained about Cherry in the House of Commons in Ottawa.

During the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City, Cherry weighed in when Russian Olympic officials made noise about withdrawing from the Games because of perceived bias when it came to drug testing. "I've been trying to tell you people for so long about the Russians, what kind of people they are, and you just love them in Canada with your multiculturalism," he scolded. "They're quitters and evidently they take a lot of drugs, too."

At the start of the Iraq War in early 2003, Cherry loudly supported the Americans, while co-host MacLean defended Canada's position of noninvolvement, which, to Cherry, equaled nonsupport of an ally. The raucous debate lasted an entire Coach's Corner segment in March of that year and became a national news story. The CBC later removed the transcript of that segment from its online archives.

The more inflammatory Cherry became, the more criticism he received. The more he was criticized, the further he went. The further he went, the more popular he became. The more popular he became, the bigger the ratings. And the bigger the ratings, the more profitable Coach's Corner became, which made it nearly impossible for anyone at CBC to pull the plug — assuming, of course, that the network ever wanted to pull it in the first place.

Many influential critics were not entertained, or amused. At one point, celebrated Canadian columnist and author Roy MacGregor said Cherry's "thinking, and his extraordinary influence, has been the single-most destructive influence on the development of Canadian hockey."

Dowbiggin says he believes Cherry's continued championing of physical hockey while belittling nonaggression has changed how minor hockey coaches and parents view the game — a view that Canada's national hockey body, Hockey Canada, has been trying, with varying degrees of success, to eliminate from grassroots hockey for years.

Hockey sociologist and author Julie Stevens, an associate professor at Brock University in St. Catharines, Ontario, says Cherry does not speak for or to all of Canada. In fact, with the growing multiculturalism in the nation, she believes he speaks to a narrower segment of the population all the time.

Why then, is he still such a popular figure with the masses? Perhaps because Canadians see themselves as wanting when it comes to their national identity and how they're perceived internationally, they often respond passionately to what Cherry says. Whether it's defending Canadian hockey players wherever they might be playing or remembering the exploits of Canadian soldiers during the D-Day assault of World War II or calling attention to Canadian peace-keeping missions, Cherry is in many ways a distinctly unifying force. "We tend not to blow our own horns in Canada, we're too polite," Stevens admits. "At times, Don Cherry says things Canadians wish more of our leaders would say."

Damien Cox, a columnist for the country's largest paper, The Toronto Star, and a contributor to ESPN.com, says Cherry's strongest beliefs strike a chord at the most sensitive parts of the Canadian hockey psyche, whether it's fighting or the place of Canada and Canadians in the game or the style of play Canada represents. "These are parts of hockey that don't appeal to everyone," Cox says. "It's like he's standing in the middle of the DMZ, shouting out his view. Some people see him as their champion, their warrior. The one thing you have to say about him is he doesn't mind standing alone."

Luckily for Cherry, he hasn't had to stand alone. Though he has worked with a variety of hosts and announcers over the years, it is alongside co-host MacLean since 1986 that Cherry has enjoyed the kind of rapport and chemistry that is television magic.

Not that the relationship has all been sweetness and light. As MacLean readily admits, there have been many times when he has been angered by Cherry's comments on Coach's Corner. But MacLean has never lost his admiration for Cherry's convictions — convictions that are at the very heart of the show's success and Cherry's popularity. "He's just a sterling example of how sharp a nonschooled person can be," MacLean says. "He's a great example of what's in all of us."

Cherry prepares for every Coach's Corner segment as though he were preparing for a game. His preshow routine is written in stone: breakfast, including tea with honey; a steak at 1 p.m.; an all-important nap; three cups of coffee, black.

Similarly, despite appearances to the contrary, what happens during the show is also hyper-controlled. And — surprise, surprise — it is Cherry, not MacLean, who is doing the controlling. "He's the one who polices the segment," MacLean acknowledges. "He knows what he's doing, and I have no idea what he's doing. He's a better judge of what's going to get us fired than I am."

If true, this would come as a shock to fan and critic alike. The popular perception is that what separates Cherry from almost everyone else in his position is that his internal wiring system does not include a fail-safe switch, that he draws an average of 1.4 million Canadians every Saturday night who believe what is about to follow is some kind of out-of-body experience, a raw, roiling, undiluted stew of anger and opinion, passion and outrage.

Cherry couldn't disagree more. "I know exactly what I'm saying," he says, "so that when I'm fired, it won't be a slip of the tongue. Everything I want to say, I say."

So who is this guy? What makes him tick when the camera is turned off and the rink has gone dark?

First and foremost, there is almost no pretense about the man, for all his fame and fortune and notoriety. As he saw his father, so does he see himself — an honest laborer, giving value for what he is paid. He might walk around in suits that would cost your average construction worker two weeks' pay, but, in his own mind, he's carrying a lunch pail. "When you start thinking you're a somebody for being on television, you are in deep trouble," he insists. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life."

He might seem like a complex contradiction at times, but his core beliefs are as basic as you can get — he believes in loyalty, and honesty, and the game.

And maybe, just maybe, he believes in the game a little too much for his own good. "I don't take vacations," he says, with a rare note of wistfulness in his voice. "I don't play golf. I don't do anything but hockey. Hockey is my whole life."

He shared both his passion and the backlash it often provoked with his childhood sweetheart, Rose, until 1997, when she died after a battle with cancer. For a time, hockey was all he had left, and, in the harsh light of reality, Cherry might admit his life felt surprisingly empty.

"I was that guy standing in the kitchen, eating beans out of a can and washing the spoon in the sink," he says of his life as a widower. "I knew a lot of people. But I had nobody to hang around with. I had a lot of acquaintances. I don't know why I don't have many friends.

"My life is very narrow," he acknowledges with the barest hint of a catch in his voice. "That's not too good."

Although he is a man of great means, with his television and radio shows, national endorsements and association with a string of bars and restaurants that bear his name, Cherry lives in a modest home in a suburb west of Toronto. Around the corner, children Tim and Cindy live across the street from each other, where they serve as an army of two handling Cherry's affairs.

The geographic proximity suggests an emotional closeness that isn't necessarily reflected in their daily relationships. Hockey is my whole life.

Hugs and kisses? Not so many in the Cherry house.

Organ donations? No problem. When Tim was 13 and needed a kidney transplant, the decision for Cindy to give up one of hers was made without hesitation, she says.

"It's a little different than being lovey-dovey," Cherry explains. "It was understood."

So here he is, 72 years old, though far from ready to go gently into that good night. A few years ago, he met a Ukrainian woman named Luba, who would become his second wife, at a hockey banquet she was attending with her brother. Where else? "A lot of people think she's my daughter," Cherry says with a broad grin. "I don't mind."

A lot of people also think the unlikely saga of Don Cherry will end ugly — a nasty public dismissal, perhaps, after the kind of self-destructive pronouncement that can't be taken back or forgiven, even by all those gentle Canadians. But that seems a little bit too predictable for a man who has made a life out of speaking his truth, no matter how it is received.

One thing is certain: However the saga ends, we will never see its like again.

I guess it was worth the time...

I got an email from my thesis supervisors to let me know that a paper they have written, based on my thesis research, has been accepted by the PriceWaterhouse Cooper Centre for Global Excellence as one of their paper's for the year. I am pretty stoked because they take only a few pieces that should have a commercial impact. While the whole paper isn't on my stuff I completed in my thesis, it is from work I gathered and questions that arose in the process. We do get a little bit of money out of the process too which always makes me smile.

I have also updated and added some cool links over the past week or so, and updated any broken ones.

Logic Puzzle

A lot of investment banking interviews have little logic puzzles involved in them. I really find them quite fun and thought I would pass one on that I was sent today and consumed 45min of my busy day. It is a logic puzzle with the following rules.

1. The father cannot be left alone with any daughter (without the mother present).
   
2. The mother cannot be left alone with any son (without the father present).
   
3. The thief cannot be left alone with any family member (without the cop present).
   
4. Only the father, mother, and cop can operate the boat.
   

Sounds simple? Fair enough - let’s see if you can beat the IQ game: - press the round blue button to start.

Movie Review: Lucky Number Slevin

After the moving/lost cat fiasco, Snarl and I really weren't up for hitting the town. Gret's and Alysa and the other North Shore folk were heading into watch Mattie's band play in town. I had seen them quite a few times over the past couple months so I really wasn't too fused. The only thing was that Gret's is heading to France next week to work on a cruise ship and I won't be hitting the farewell party because I'm down to Palmy with Snarl for the weekend. After much harassment I almost caved and went until T-Rex pulled out a copy of "Lucky Number Slevin".

I had heard awesome stuff about this movie, but for some reason it hasn't come out here yet. For those of you who enjoy "The Usual Suspects", "They Game" and other thinking thrillers this one is for you. Josh Harnett stars as Slevin, an unlucky individual who, in a case of mistaken identity, is caught in the middle of a war between rival crime bosses (Morgan Freeman and Ben Kingsley). Slevin is also under constant surveillance by relentless Detective Brikowski (Stanley Tucci) as well as the infamous assassin Goodkat (Bruce Willis) and finds himself having to hatch his own ingenious plot to get them before they get him. While this movie is quite smart it does slow down a little in the middle. IMDB ranking of 7.4 is about right.

The New Place, The Lost Cat

Saturday was spent shifting to my new place. I got up early and started packing because the boss said that he would come over at 10am and help me move some of my big stuff. Well, as I was throwing some things together Snarl's cat decided it was play time and attacked my face, leaving this HUGE scratch across my nose. I was so fucked off the cat got chucked outside while I cursed profusely. My mother would definitely have not been impressed at my language, but if felt good at the time.

Well I had my car basically packed by the time Colin showed up and we moved my desk and mattress. The bed breaks down into many pieces, so it is quite easy to move if you have a drill to take all the screws out. The bad thing about the bed is a result of it being hand made, and easy to move, it squeaks quite bad. I guess this is something the new roommates will have to get used.

I finished unpacking and had the room put together by late afternoon. I was pretty happy with myself and decided to go back and pick up the cat. Well, while I moved the cat decided to go on some sort of adventure and was no where to be found. My old place was on a pretty busy road and Snarl didn't want her kitten to be left outside because it was quite normal to see squished pets on the road. I had figured that she would be fine in the back yard for a couple hours while I hated her.

When I went to find the cat it was no where to be found. I ended up canvassing the neighborhood for about 3 hours in the dark thinking that I had killed Charlotte's cat. At 8pm I had to go and meet Char and let her know that I had lost her cat. The reaction I received was pretty much what I expected, sadness followed closely by confusion which led distinctly into wrath. I could see the logic in her face, how is my cat lost...It doesn't go outside at Ryan's house...Ryan must have put the cat outside...Ryan killed my cat.

When you are the boyfriend of a veterinarian, losing a pet is basically the same as losing their child. Once I assured her that my former roommate was going to keep an eye out for her in case she got back, and that we would go look again first thing in the morning and had searched quite vigilantly earlier, I was fairly sure my relationship was intact.

We got back to the new place and started making some food and the old roomie sent me an SMS saying that the cat was found by the next door neighbor. We went and picked up the damn thing, and another close call was avoided.

Moving: Part 4

Yes it's true. For the 4th time in 6 months I am moving. For the 1st 20 years of my life I only moved 4 times, and no times after the age of 5. After moving to Vancouver, I seem to move an excessive amount. While many of the times were out of my control (living in dorms, flatmates gave the house up, getting a job) this is the first time I decided to to throw my hand's to the heavens and say "fuck it". Let me explain...

Over the past 2 months I have lived with a 37 year old 12 year old. This guy, lets call him "Chris" is a total douchebag. When I moved in he seemed like a decent sporty guy who was recently divorced and wanting to get his life as a single guy back together. It seemed like an ideal situation; "Chris" ownes house and travels a lot for work...Ryan lives in house and has his own place.

"Chris" failed to inform Ryan that:

1. Chris did not really travel that often
2. Chris had a child that lived with Chris 3/4 of the time
3. Chris whined about having a child, in front of child, making for very unconfortable situations.
4. Chris was unsocial and Ryan was not "allowed" to have guests over
5. Chris was an emotional basketcase that Ryan did not need

So...when some guys I know called me out of no where and asked if I wanted to move in with them it didn't take much thinking. Hopefully this is the last time I have to move, and my end of crazy roomates.

Six Horrifying Parasites.

Houseguests from Hell: 6 Horrifying Parasites Guaranteed to Overstay Their Welcome.

Living with a Veterinarian I get to hear about lots of gross and disgusting things. Some of the worst is parasites, you can't seem them but they can sure do some damage. When it comes to parasites, it’s all about perspective. You may call a lifetime of growing and feeding off another organism lazy, but they call it opportunistic. In fact, these life-sucking go-getters have managed to carve out some of the most ingenious survival strategies in the world. By some estimates, parasites outnumber free-living species nearly four to one. So show some respect. After all, mooching isnt’ as easy as it looks.

Cymothoa exigua: Biting Your Tongue, So You Don’t Have To.

When fish mommies want to strike fear in the hearts of their misbehaving fish babies, we suspect they draw on the chilling animal savagery of the Cymothoa exigua. As a youngster, this nasty little parasitic crustacean begins a life of terror by fighting its way through the gills of its fish host of choice, the snapper. Once there, it attaches itself to the fish’s tongue and begins feeding on the rich blood pumping through the artery underneath. As the parasite grows, it drinks more blood and eventually causes the tongue to atrophy and disintegrate. But does the Cymothoa mouth-squatter leave its fishy friend tongueless? Of course not. It does any craft parasite would do and replaces the old tongue with its own body. The fish is actually able to use the parasite just like a normal tongue, only it has to share all the food with its new friend. Yes, the whole foster-tongue thing seems like a pretty nice gesture on the part of ol’ Cymothoa - until you remember there was nothing wrong with the fish’s old tongue in the first place.

Previously on Neatorama: When Exigua Got Your Tongue, It’s For Real

Screwworms: Causing Problems Right out of the Hatch.

The screwworm isn’t really a worm at all; it’s a type of fly. But if living under a false name were the worst of the screwworm’s misdeeds, you can be sure it wouldn’t appear in this story. No, this parasite’s rap sheet is about to get much, much more disturbing. To find its host, an adult female screwworm seeks out exposed flesh on an animal (usually some sort of livestock, but an injured soldier or a human baby isn’t out of the question) in search of a place to lay her eggs. She prefers wounds, but may also settle on using the eyes, nostrils, or anus of her victim to construct a nursery. Next, the 200-or-so eggs hatch, and the larvae start burrowing into their host’s flesh. Once they’re situated in their cozy little meat tunnels, the infant flies continue to feed and grow. The bigger they get, the more they have to eat. Eventually, this creates a whole lot of festering and oozing on the host, which attracts more flies, which lay more eggs, which do more feeding and burrowing. It’s a brutal onslaught, and a swift one. Screwworm larvae are reportedly capable of consuming an entire sheep or dog from the inside out in five to seven days.



Sacculina carcini: Reasons You Shouldn’t Pick up a Hitchhiker.

If you ever have a choice between being possessed by the devil and being possessed by a Sacculina carcini, opt for the devil - no contest. A female sacculina begins life as a tiny free-floating slug in the sea, drifting around until she encounters a crab. When that fateful day arrives, she finds a chink in the crab’s armor (usually an elbow or leg joint) and thrusts a kind of hollow dagger into its body. After that, she (how to put this?) "injects" herself into the crab, sluicing through the dagger and leaving behind a husk. Once inside, the jellylike sacculina starts to take over. She grows "roots" that extend to every part of the crab’s body - wrapping around its eyestalks and deep into its legs and arms. The female feeds and grows until eventually she pops out of the top of the crab, and from this knobby protrusion, she will steer the Good Ship Unlucky Crab for the rest of their co-mingled life. Packed full of parasite, the crab will forgo its own needs to serve those of its master. It won’t molt, grow reproductive organs, or attempt to reproduce. It won’t even regrow appendages, as healthy crabs can. Rather than waste the nutrients on itself, a host crab will hobble along and continue to look for food with which to feed its parasite master.




Filarial Worm
Filarial Worms: Proof You Need Thicker Skin.

Filarial worms are the nasty little suckers you can thank for lymphatic filariasis, which, according to the Pacific Program to Eliminate Lymphatic Filariasis, is the second-leading cause of permanent and long-term disability in the world. (Mental illness is No. 1.) Filarial worms are round, threadlike parasites that travel from human to human via that harbinger of disease transmission, the mosquito. How do they make the leap of host? In an interesting (if scary) example of parasite ingenuity, filarial worm embryos living underneath the skin can sense the onset of night, which is their cue to head upward to the skin’s surface in order to increase their chances of being picked up by a passing ’skeeter. Should they get sucked up, they grow into larvae within the mosquito’s muscle fibers and then get themselves injected into new hosts. Once they’ve returned into a human home, they open up a franchise in the family business - Wreaking Havoc. Filaria often lodge in the body’s lymphatic system, where they can inflict any number of torturous symptoms, not the least which involves carting your genitals off to the elephantiasis clinic in a wheelbarrow.

Read more: The Global Alliance to Eliminate Lymphatic Filariasis | Lifecycle of Filariasis


Souce: Dose of Tenacity Wears Down an Ancient Honor

Guinea Worms: Exposing Parts Nobody Wants to See.

Where there are guinea worms, there is Guinea Worm Disease - and that’s usually in Africa. When a human consumes water contaminated with guinea worms, the little buggers infiltrate their host’s intestinal walls and commence mating. After conception, the males die off, and the females hang around for about a year, growing and eating. Eventually, these slender ladies get bored and decide they need to lay some eggs. To do so, they make their way down the body to the lower extremities, where they bore a small hole through the skin. The resulting lesion begins to fester and burn, which usually leads the host to plunge his or her foot into a soothing bucket of water (Of course, in areas where an entire village shares a single water source, this helps spread the infection.) Unfortunately for the sufferer, the water doesn’t solve the problem of having a three-foot female worm dangling its genitalia out of your foot. And to complicate matters, if you yank on that sucker, it’ll break apart and could cause a fatal infection. So how do you rid yourself of the not-so-little hitchhiker? You go see a doctor, who - over the course of three or four weeks - will kindly wind the worm around a stick, inch by agonizing inch. Not the most pleasant method, but certainly a proven one. This cure for a guinea worm infection has been around so long, so believe it’s where we get the snakes-around-a-staff symbol for medicine.


Source: Insane Snail Parasite

Leucochloridium paradoxum: Parasite for Sore Eyes.

Prepare to be dazzled. This parasite’s got a life cycle more mind-bending and chilling than an M. Night Shyamalan film. Leucochloridium paradoxum are a type of fluke (a.k.a., parasitic flatworm) that prey on birds - a fascinating turn of events considering they begin their lives as eggs in bird droppings. Thus, the problem facing baby Leucochloridum paradoxum is, "How do I get myself back into one of those feathery things?" Taking a page from Greek history, the infant flatworms rely on Trojan trickery. First, they hang out in the droppings until a snail happens along and eats the bird dung. Then they initiate their devious plan of action by taking up residence in the snail’s eyestalks. (Sure, it sounds slimy and gross to us, but after a childhood spent living in bird feces, it’s a step up.) As they mature, the flukes become visible through the snail’s translucent skin. And that’s when things get interesting. To a bird, this fluke-filled eyestalk looks like a caterpillar. So the bird devours the stalk and ends up with a bellyful of Leucochloridium paradoxum that will, of course, lay eggs and begin the cycle again. Meanwhile, the snail shakes its head, shops for an eye patch, and vows never to eat feces again.

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This article was written by Chris Connolly for our friend mental_floss magazine

Survey

TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey
Name:	Ryan Douglas Wales
Birthday:	May 25 1979
Birthplace:	Cranbrook
Current Location:	Auckland, New Zealand
Eye Color:	Green
Hair Color:	Dirty Blond
Height:	6'0"
Right Handed or Left Handed:	Left
Your Heritage:	Melting Pot of English, Irish, Norwegian, and Native American
The Shoes You Wore Today:	Black dress shoes
Your Weakness:	Nachos
Your Fears:	Motorbikes
Your Perfect Pizza:	A mexican pizza from panago...
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:	It's a secret
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:	haha
Thoughts First Waking Up:	Piss off cat...
Your Best Physical Feature:	Smile
Your Bedtime:	Sometimes early, sometimes too late
Your Most Missed Memory:	Hockey dressing rooms
Pepsi or Coke:	Pepsi
MacDonalds or Burger King:	no way
Single or Group Dates:	Single
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:	Nestea
Chocolate or Vanilla:	Vanilla
Cappuccino or Coffee:	Cappuccino
Do you Smoke:	nada
Do you Swear:	too much
Do you Sing:	poorly
Do you Shower Daily:	Sometimes more than once
Have you Been in Love:	Ya!
Do you want to go to College:	For 8 years
Do you want to get Married:	Indeed
Do you belive in yourself:	Mostly
Do you get Motion Sickness:	First time was on a flight last Saturday
Do you think you are Attractive:	More than I probably am haha
Are you a Health Freak:	I wouldn't say freak
Do you get along with your Parents:	When I don't live with them
Do you like Thunderstorms:	Love them
Do you play an Instrument:	no
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:	Ya man
In the past month have you Smoked:	never
In the past month have you been on Drugs:	nope
In the past month have you gone on a Date:	Ya
In the past month have you gone to a Mall:	Yup
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:	I haven't had them in ages...so I might soon
In the past month have you eaten Sushi:	Indeed
In the past month have you been on Stage:	No
In the past month have you been Dumped:	No
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:	It's winter here
In the past month have you Stolen Anything:	na
Ever been Drunk:	Ya
Ever been called a Tease:	Who hasn't
Ever been Beaten up:	Been on the losing end of a couple hockey fights
Ever Shoplifted:	Yup
How do you want to Die:	Happy
What do you want to be when you Grow Up:	Professional Athlete...not gonna make it though
What country would you most like to Visit:	Greece
In a Boy/Girl..
Favourite Eye Color:	Blue
Favourite Hair Color:	Blond
Short or Long Hair:	Long
Height:	Shorter than me
Weight:	Not toobig and not too small
Best Clothing Style:	Casual but nice
Number of Drugs I have taken:	some
Number of CDs I own:	I have a lot of digital copies
Number of Piercings:	0
Number of Tattoos:	1
Number of things in my Past I Regret:	The things that have hurt me have only made me who I am.
CREATE YOUR OWN! - or - GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!

Boobs on Bikes

It is really too bad that I don't work downtown Auckland. I am pretty close (10 min), but far enough, and too busy, to be able to attend the inaugural "Boobs on Bikes" parade during my lunch hour tomorrow. Apparently to start kick off some erotica expo, dozens of porn starts are having a nude parade, down the busiest shopping street in the country. Police officials said that "they did not regard the parade of leather-clad porn stars as indecent." This really doesn't surprise me since one of their own moonlights as a hooker on the weekend. I guess having hundreds of horny business men may be good for business.

I have no idea how this is allowed...

Stubby Storts

One of the first things I noticed in this godforsaken country is the excessively shorts worn by guys...commonly called stubby's. I am proud to say that after over 3 years I have not been tricked into buying a pair. I may pick up some before I go home...I know the boys will be jealous.
When ever I see guys strolling around in them that 80's classic just pops into my head..."who likes short shorts"..."we like short shorts"....

THE STUBBY

If there is anyone who has pictures of people who should now be wearing these shorts, feel free to pass them on. I can make it a catagory called "People who should not wear stubby's". Lets start if off with Reg Reagan, Australian icon from the Footy Show.

Santa!!!!

The road hockey crew invited me around to their place a few nights back. I had been having an really shitty day with my car breaking down, deciding that I am going to move out of my flat, and just some general boredom. I figured that I would stop by to say hi, maybe have a couple drinks, and then take off nice and early because I wanted to go for a big fun the next day. Well when I got to Sprague's house, to my surprise, they decided to throw a Christmas party in August. There was no messing around here; mistletoe in the doorways, a Christmas tree covered in lights, Christmas baking, and a vat full of warm Christmas "cheer". They even had Christmas carols just cranking and everyone totally got into it. The night definitely had a snowball effect until there were numerous people, stripped down to their underwear singing some Tragically Hip, on a newly made deck at 3am. Totally a random night that is was one to remember.

Line of the night (while sceamed at the top of his lungs): "Oh my god its a dance party"

What Trading Teaches Us About Life

While I wish I came up with this list myself, I can't take recognition for these words of wisdom. Thanks Trader Feed!

So many life lessons can be culled from trading and the markets:

1) Have a firm stop-loss point for all activities: jobs, relationships, and personal involvements. Successful people are successful because they cut their losing experiences short and ride winning experiences.

2) Diversification works well in life and markets. Multiple, non-correlated sources of fulfillment make it easier to take risks in any one facet of life.

3) In life as in markets, chance truly favors those who are prepared to benefit. Failing to plan truly is planning to fail.

4) Success in trading and life comes from knowing your edge, pressing it when you have the opportunity, and sitting back when that edge is no longer present.

5) Risks and rewards are always proportional. The latter, in life as in markets, requires prudent management of the former.

6) Happiness is the profit we harvest from life. All life's activities should be periodically reviewed for their return on investment.

7) Embrace change: With volatility comes opportunity, as well as danger.

8) All trends and cycles come to an end. Who anticipates the future, profits.

9) The worst decisions, in life and markets, come from extremes: overconfidence and a lack of confidence.

10) A formula for success in life and finance: never hold an investment that you would not be willing to purchase afresh today.

Why I play hockey...

If you don't know, this is why boys like me play hockey...

The cockiest, dirtiest, most irresponsible group of athletes in the world. Will do anything and come back to tell his teammates about it. Live the dream until they are 35 then realize they never made it. Ladies love us, guys want to be us, we are the soul of the universe. You lace up the skates, put on the gloves, strap on the helmet, and walk on to the ice and nothing else matters. It doesn't matter that you failed a test, your girl is bein a bitch, or that you got a ticket on the way there...you're world is absolutely perfect for the next couple hours Here's to faceoffs, goals, assists, overtime, livin' on the road, cold rinks, early mornings, breakaways, goin' top shelf, countless hours of practice, bag skates, thousands of dollars, dangling d-men, big hits, broken twigs, new skates, packin' bombs, wheelin' broads, coaches, adding the letter "y" to the end of everyone's last name, the word "f", pick up, fights, let downs, miracles and most of all - the game, Hockey Why? Why do we skate back and forth night after night? Skating so hard we throw up. Skating so hard your heart beat rings in your head, while your lungs are grasping for air. Late nights, early mornings, Friday nights, Saturday evenings, broken bones, torn muscles and deep bruises. We skate through it all. Because we live off our adrenaline, because the game frees your spirit, because the party in the locker room is fine, because your invincible once you step on the ice, because a shot can make you smile all night, sniping the twine, the rattling of the boards, the feel of the puck, and skates carving into the ice is a rhythm to live by, because its possible to skate fast enough to leave all your worries behind. Sweat is the cologne of our accomplishment. Why? Why would someone push themselves so hard? It's not for the money, it's not for the girls, and it's not for the fame. We do it because we love it...

Rules to live by

While working at my new job has not made me rich, I have definitely grown and put me outside of my "comfort zone". I think that many of us get into a routine where things are easy, without challenging ourselves. The people who can get away from these routines end up living exciting and interesting lives and know who they are a lot better than someone stuck in the same old place. This is why I:

a) Went to UBC
b) Came to NZ with Snarl
b) Took a job in Auckland and forcing myself into a relationship situation that is far from ideal
c) Eat spicy food...

In summary it is always good to give your head a chance to start fresh.

I read a great quote from Trader Feed that brings this altogether. It is from Lila, by Robert Pirsig:

"If you want to drink new tea you have to get rid of the old tea that's in your cup, otherwise you cup just overflows and you get a wet mess. Your head is like that cup. It has a limited capacity and if you want to learn something about the world you should keep your head empty in order to learn it. It's very easy to spend your whole life swishing old tea around in your cup thinking it's great stuff because you've never tried anything new, because you could never get it in, because the old stuff prevented its entry because you were so sure the old stuff was so good, because you never really tried anything new...on and on in an endless circular pattern" (p. 25).

Hockey Day in NZ

So Snarl has headed back down to Palmy. She starts back at uni on Monday for her last semester of class work for vet. It is going to be pretty intense for her but she will be fine. Well I dropped her off with her friend to drive back so I am back to flying solo for the next couple months. I like having her around and miss her when she is gone but things have been good so far. Well after I dropped her off I went to check out this gym near my place. It looks good enough at the University of Auckland high performance center. I am able to get a discount as an "other student discount". Massey, for some reason automatically issues your student card for 5 years even if your program isn't that long. It allows me to get student discounts for 3 years after I graduate...Sweet! Well on my way home I went by this school and saw a group of guys playing road hockey. I knew that they couldn't be kiwi's so I wandered over to see if they needed another player. Obviously they were all Canadians who have moved here over the past few years and play road hockey every Saturday morning. I joined them and had a wicked, and fun, workout. It is awesome running into random fun events like that. I am also meeting up with them later to watch the rugby tonight. They invited me over because they are having a party with a projector, drinking some beer, and playing some fusball. Good time, good times....I love random events that happen to me.