introspection

“Is blogging dead?” – Another view

/ Ted C. MacRae / 60 Comments

Yesterday Alex asked the question that has been on my mind for some time: Is Blogging Dead? He had some nice charts and graphs to illustrate the point, but in the end he thought not. Rather, he speculated, blogging provided an early social network structure that is now better served by Facebook and Google+. While some in blogging have left for these other platforms, there remains a dedicated contingent for whom blogging is the best platform to serve their needs.

There must have been a reason, however, that Alex asked the question in the first place, and in fact he is just the latest of many who have asked this same question with increasing frequency. The rise to pervasive dominance by Facebook (even better than sex) is an obvious factor, and although Google+ struggles to gain share, its better graphics-friendliness has cultivated a small but loyal following (hmm, sounds a little like another IBM vs. Mac). I don’t share Alex’s optimism about the future of blogging. I think social networks have not only pulled share from blogging platforms, but also made blogging irrelevant. The World Wide Web is now chock full of choices for information and entertainment, so much so that it is impossible to look at every site that might be of interest. Blogging takes too much time—why spend time reading long, prattling accounts of one person’s exploits when the short quips of 50 people can be read in the same amount of time? Limiting blogs to being primarily photo showcases doesn’t solve the problem—why spend time clicking through numerous individual sites to see photos that maybe you will like when all can be seen collated on a single page like Google+? Even the capability for interaction between the blogger and reader are better served by social networks—no logging in or word verification gauntlets; instead just a quick click of the “Like” button or, if the photo really struck a chord, a quick comment (“Cool photo!”). Gone are the long, interactive discussions following a post, having been replaced by greater reliance on use of the “Like” button for readers to indicate their approval. The sharp decline in appearance of new blogs and increasing dormancy of formerly active blogs (at least in the natural history realm) further illustrate the decline of blogging in the face of other online choices.

Where am I going with this? Obviously, as writer of ‘Beetles in the Bush’ I have a vested interest in the relevance of blogging. I’m beginning to feel, however, a little old school—like the Mom and Pop hardware store, offering an intimate, interactive experience to an increasingly hurried public that simply doesn’t have time for it. I’d like to know what your thoughts are? Is blogging really on the way out? Is Facebook-level quality for photos really just good enough, and if not is the showing of photos and exchange of ideas really better and more efficiently accomplished on Google+? Is all the extra information about natural history, learnings, etc. just an exercise in self-indulgence? I realize, of course, that any commentary received here will be skewed towards those still inclined to do such, and the thoughts of those who have already abandoned blogging for Facebook and Google+ will remain unknown—perhaps to the point that even this post was another exercise in self-indulgence. At any rate, I’ve been increasingly contemplating the future of individual blogs (and specifically natural history blogs, especially those by enthusiastic specialists) and what purpose they do/can/will/should serve. If everything I’ve said above is true, I personally don’t see how blogging per se can readily adapt to such realities—they essentially become a Facebook or Google+ stream of one!

p.s. These are expressions of an evolving thought process. Don’t expect any drastic changes here at BitB, at least in the near future!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

I am an Entomologist

/ Ted C. MacRae / 21 Comments

In my last post (Best of BitB 2011), I showed my favorite 13 insect (mostly) macrophotographs from 2011. Such “Best of …” posts have become an annual tradition here at BitB, and I like them because they give me a chance to review my photographs for the year and assess my progress as an insect macrophotographer. Others seem to like them also, as previous editions remain among this blog’s most popular posts despite the passage of time. Hopefully this latest edition will achieve similar popularity, and if it does I will be truly grateful.

Despite this, however, I find that I still have trouble considering myself a true “insect macrophotographer” rather than an “entomologist with a camera.” It’s not that I don’t want or hope to achieve such a moniker, and I’ve been thinking lately about why this should the case. I’ve realized that it really has less to do with self-opinion and more to do with the importance I still place on and satisfaction I get out of my other entomological pursuits. Not only have I been fortunate to find stable employment conducting entomology research, but I’ve also managed to find satisfying outlets for my avocational entomological interests. I am an Entomologist (with a capital ‘E’), and although I’ve enjoyed immensely my recent growth as an insect macrophotographer, I did have other other, purely entomological accomplishments in 2011 that I think also deserve mention:

  • Managing Editor of The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. It has been my life-long goal to become editor of a major entomology journal, and this past April I was presented with just such an opportunity with The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. My seven prior years as the journal’s Coleoptera Subject Editor prepared me well for the role (and further confirmed for me that the chief role was something I wanted to do), and in the seven months since I took over, the Editorial Board and I have processed 50 manuscripts, are about to submit files for our 4th issue, and have shaved more than two months off of the deficit that separates us from our eventual goal of on-schedule publishing.
  • Five papers published. With co-authors Chris Brown and Kent Fothergill, 2011 saw the publication of our series of papers assessing the conservation status of the tiger beetles Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii, Dromochorus pruinina, Tetracha carolina, and Cylindera cursitans in Missouri and Cylindera celeripes in the eastern Great Plains. Survey work for these species dominated my field activities during the past decade and formed the basis for these papers, and it was immensely satisfying to finally see the results of all that work finally appear in print. The real impact of this work, however, will be seen in the coming years as I work with conservation stakeholders who will utilize the information that we have gathered.
  • First seminar presented fully in Spanish. I don’t talk much about my professional activities—part of being an industry entomologist is the necessity to maintain company confidentiality. I have mentioned, however, my role in soybean entomology research and my recent travels to Argentina as part of this work. In November I finally realized one of my professional goals of giving a seminar fully in Spanish. It was a long time coming—I took Spanish lessons for a short time in the late 1990s but have otherwise had only one or two trips per year to Argentina and Mexico with which to improve my skills. It was during my trip to Argentina this past March that something finally ‘clicked’ and I found myself for the first time able to engage fully in conversation. My colleagues in Argentina must have noticed this as well, as it was they who requested that I not only give a seminar during my November visit, but that I do so in Spanish. The presentation went well, and I now find myself more motivated than ever to pursue what before seemed only a pipe dream—full fluency.
  • Senior Research Entomologist. After three decades of working as an entomologist—the last two in industry, I now can add “Senior” to my title. What this means in practice I’m not quite sure—I’m still doing largely what I have been doing for the past few years, and in this environment compensation is linked more to accomplishments than title. Maybe it’s just recognition of dogged persistence. Still, it sounds cool and looks good in the email signature line!
  • 32 species/subspecies of tiger beetles! This is the fun stuff! Nothing is more enjoyable for me than locating, observing, and photographing tiger beetles in their native habitats. It’s even better when they are uncommonly observed or rare endemic species. In 2011 I looked for tiger beetles in seven states (Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Idaho, Missouri, Oklahoma and Utah), and of the 32 total species and subspecies that I found (listed below) the highlights must include three of North America’s rarest tiger beetle species: Cicindela albissima (Coral Pink Sand Dune Tiger Beetle), Cicindela arenicola (St. Anthony Dune Tiger Beetle), and the recently rediscovered Cicindelidia floridana (Miami Tiger Beetle).  Another eight endemic or highly restricted species and subspecies were also found, and I was able to obtain in situ photographs of all eleven in their native habitat (as well as most of the non-endemics that I had not already photographed). In the list that follows, bold text indicates endemics, and links to any photographs I posted are provided when available:
    • Genus Cicindela
      • Cicindela albissima Rumpp, 1962 [photos]
      • Cicindela arenicola Rumpp, 1967 [photos]
      • Cicindela formosa formosa Say, 1817
      • Cicindela formosa generosa Dejean, 1831 [photos]
      • Cicindela formosa gibsoni Brown, 1940 [photos]
      • Cicindela lengi lengi W. Horn, 1908
      • Cicindela purpurea audubonii LeConte, 1845
      • Cicindela scutellaris scutellaris Say, 1823
      • Cicindela scutellaris yampae Rumpp, 1986 [photos]
      • Cicindela sexguttata Fabricius, 1775
      • Cicindela splendida Hentz, 1830
      • Cicindela theatina Rotger, 1944 [photos pending]
      • Cicindela tranquebarica borealis E. D. Harris, 1911
      • Cicindela tranquebarica kirbyi LeConte, 1866
      • Cicindela tranquebarica tranquebarica Herbst, 1806 [photos]
    • Genus Cicindelidia
      • Cicindelidia floridana (Cartwright, 1939) [photos]
      • Cicindelidia haemorrhagica haemorrhagica (LeConte, 1851)
      • Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina (LeConte, 1853) [photos pending]
      • Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (Olivier, 1790)
      • Cicindelidia rufiventris rufiventris (Dejean, 1825)
      • Cicindelidia scabrosa (Schaupp, 1884) [photos]
    • Genus Cylindera
      • Cylindera (Cylindera) curistans (LeConte, 1860) [photos]
      • Cylindera (Cylindera) unipunctata (Fabricius, 1775) [photos]
    • Genus Ellipsoptera
      • Ellipsoptera hamata lacerata (Chaudoir, 1854) [photos, photos, photos, photos]
      • Ellipsoptera hirtilabris (LeConte, 1875)
      • Ellipsoptera marginata (Fabricius, 1775)
    • Genus Habroscelimorpha
      • Habroscelimorpha dorsalis saulcyi (Guérin-Méneville, 1840)
      • Habroscelimorpha severa severa (LaFerté-Sénectère, 1841)
      • Habroscelimorpha striga (LeConte, 1875) [photos]
    • Genus Tetracha
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) carolina carolina (Linnaeus, 1767) [photos]
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) floridana Leng & Mutchler, 1916 [photos, photos]
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) virginica (Linnaeus, 1767)

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

My Dad (reprise)

/ Ted C. MacRae / 5 Comments

I first wrote this post on Father’s Day 2008. It didn’t appear on Beetles in the Bush, but rather my other blog, the now largely defunct Bikes Bugs and Bones.  My dad is my hero, my confidant, and my best friend.  It’s hard watching him age, but it would be even harder not to.  I repost on this day in his honor and urge everyone to honor their own father is some small way.  Happy Father’s Day!

Me and my dad | Pickle Springs Natural Area, St. Genevieve Co., Missouri, Dec. 2007

My dad had knee replacement surgery a couple days ago. The surgery went off without a hitch, and he’s doing very well. All signs are that he will bounce back quickly and suffer few, if any, complications. I’ve spent much of the past three days here at the hospital—sometimes providing support and encouragement, other times just keeping him company. He should be released tomorrow, and I’ll spend the rest of the week with him at his house—hopefully he’ll be able to get around okay by then.

Some thirty years ago, my dad got an infection that settled in his left hip. By the time doctors found it and figured out what was going on, his left hip socket had degenerated badly, and the only medical option after cleaning up the infection was a year in a full body cast that resulted in fusion of the socket with the femoral head. This left him with a left leg two inches shorter than his right, a bad limp, and a lifetime of pain medications. His right leg became his ‘good leg’ and his left became the ‘bad.’ Decades of walking with a cane and favoring his bad leg put a lot of pressure on his good leg, and at age 73 his right leg had had enough. Now, his good leg is his bad leg, and his bad leg is, well, still his bad leg. This will add a wrinkle to his recovery, since he won’t have a healthy leg to carry the load while his good leg recovers. But I will be there to help, if needed, and in a few weeks his good leg should be good as new.

My dad is not only my dad, but also my best friend. We have a relationship that is based on mutual love and respect, and I don’t know which of us appreciates more what we have with each other. It wasn’t always this way—my dad and I were estranged for 25 years starting when I was 10 years old. My parents married far too young, and each had their own issues—they were but children themselves. Having first me, then my brother and sister, only delayed but could not prevent the inevitable break up that resulted in my fathers absence. I paid a heavy price by not having a father during those crucial, formative years as I finished growing up, but I seem to have turned out okay regardless. It would take many years before I would be ready for something so bold as reconciliation, but maturity and the support of a loving wife eventually made it possible. There were difficult questions to answer, but through it I realized that my father had paid a heavy price as well. Not the selfish irresponsible man I had been taught about, instead I saw a sensitive, deeply introspective man who had lived a life of hard knocks, suffered the consequences, learned from his mistakes and turned his life around.

My dad loves to ride bikes. I do too, but I did not learn the love of cycling from him. My dad is simple yet elegant, with an understated class that people adore. I, too, try to show respect and modesty, but I did not learn these things from my father. We both love classical music (he can live without the metal), listen to NPR, and enjoy humor with more than a touch of irreverence—tastes acquired by each of us before we knew each other. What I have learned from my father during these past 15 years is why I am me—a gift I didn’t know I lacked. I don’t mourn the loss of those 25 years spent without my father, rather I rejoice at the very special relationship that we now have—perhaps possible only because of our separate pasts. My father describes that year in a body cast as the darkest period of his life. I did not know him then, so I could not be there to help him through it. While his recovery from knee replacement will not be near that ordeal, neither will it be easy. But I am here with him, and I know in my heart that whatever difficulties he faces during his recovery, he will look back on this as a small part of the best time of his life.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2008

The 12 Years of Christmas

/ Ted C. MacRae / 16 Comments

This post first appeared on Beetles in the Bush on Christmas Day 2008. Two years have passed, but the sentiment remains stronger than ever. I reprint it here as BitB‘s single evergreen post. Merry Christmas!

p1020457_2

Merry Christmas - from our backyard to yours!

They came from completely different backgrounds. She had grown up in a middle class family, her father an educated professional, her mother a professional homemaker – “Ward and June”, as their now-grown children jokingly call them. He grew up on welfare, the family breaking up while he was still in elementary school. She was a popular student – cheerleader, debate team, gymnastics. He was the introverted science nerd, invisible to the popular, living quietly with his books. Religion was an important part of her life, growing up Catholic and remaining devoted to the church. He grew up Catholic but knew even as a child that religion would not provide the answers he was looking for, eventually finding a private spirituality in the Creation itself.

Despite these separate paths they found each other and fell in love, and despite their different lives they both wanted the same thing – a family. Such a simple desire, however, would prove to be difficult to achieve. When fertility drugs didn’t work, they turned to adoption. The first match failed. So did the second. They understood completely how the birth mothers could change their minds, but that didn’t ease their pain or calm their fears. Ultimately, they looked to Russia, a new democracy with old attitudes about orphans. In the fall of their 6th year of marriage, they learned that little Anastasia was waiting for them. They traveled to Russia before Christmas and became a family after New Years. In between, they visited little Anastasia every day – one hour at a time – and experienced the joy of being a parent, a feeling they had feared would ever elude them. On Christmas Day, they could not see little Anastasia, but in a small, gray apartment on the outskirts of Moscow, they celebrated her coming with their gracious host family. Ten days later, their family was born, and twelve months later they celebrated their first Christmas together at home.

Christmas meant little to me for much of my life. Yes, it was a time to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends, and the presents were nice. But my own approach to spirituality has little in common with traditional reflections of the season. Tonight, as I watched 12-year old Mollie Anastasia laughing with her cousins, hugging her nanny and papa, and teasing her uncle and his partner, I thought back to those cold, snowy days in Russia when my heart became warm for the first time. I recalled our second trip to Russia six years later, when she and little Madison Irina each met their sister for the first time. On this Christmas Day, as I have done for 12 years now, I thought about how lucky we are to have these two beautiful little girls that are unquestionably our own. Christmas means a lot to me now, and that is a gift that not even five golden rings could beat.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

The 12 Years of Christmas

/ Ted C. MacRae / 18 Comments

This post first appeared on Beetles in the Bush on Christmas Day last year.  One year has passed, but the sentiment remains stronger than ever.  I reprint it here as BitB‘s first evergreen post. Merry Christmas!

p1020457_2

Merry Christmas - from our backyard to yours!

They came from completely different backgrounds. She had grown up in a middle class family, her father an educated professional, her mother a professional homemaker – “Ward and June”, as their now-grown children jokingly call them. He grew up on welfare, the family breaking up while he was still in elementary school. She was a popular student – cheerleader, debate team, gymnastics. He was the introverted science nerd, invisible to the popular, living quietly with his books. Religion was an important part of her life, growing up Catholic and remaining devoted to the church. He grew up Catholic but knew even as a child that religion would not provide the answers he was looking for, eventually finding a private spirituality in the Creation itself.

Despite these separate paths they found each other and fell in love, and despite their different lives they both wanted the same thing – a family. Such a simple desire, however, would prove to be difficult to achieve. When fertility drugs didn’t work, they turned to adoption. The first match failed. So did the second. They understood completely how the birth mothers could change their minds, but that didn’t ease their pain or calm their fears. Ultimately, they looked to Russia, a new democracy with old attitudes about orphans. In the fall of their 6th year of marriage, they learned that little Anastasia was waiting for them. They traveled to Russia before Christmas and became a family after New Years. In between, they visited little Anastasia every day – one hour at a time – and experienced the joy of being a parent, a feeling they had feared would ever elude them. On Christmas Day, they could not see little Anastasia, but in a small, gray apartment on the outskirts of Moscow, they celebrated her coming with their gracious host family. Ten days later, their family was born, and twelve months later they celebrated their first Christmas together at home.

Christmas meant little to me for much of my life. Yes, it was a time to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends, and the presents were nice. But my own approach to spirituality has little in common with traditional reflections of the season. Tonight, as I watched 12-year old Mollie Anastasia laughing with her cousins, hugging her nanny and papa, and teasing her uncle and his partner, I thought back to those cold, snowy days in Russia when my heart became warm for the first time. I recalled our second trip to Russia six years later, when she and little Madison Irina each met their sister for the first time. On this Christmas Day, as I have done for 12 years now, I thought about how lucky we are to have these two beautiful little girls that are unquestionably our own. Christmas means a lot to me now, and that is a gift that not even five golden rings could beat.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

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Thanksgiving

/ Ted C. MacRae / 7 Comments

As one of the few American holidays that hasn’t been completely usurped by religious or commercial interests (the traditional Day-After-Thanksgiving-Shopping-Mêlée notwithstanding), Thanksgiving is a time for reflection and contemplation.  The feast I will enjoy, surrounded by those whose love and friendship I treasure most, is but a proxy for reminding myself not only how much I enjoy life and all it has to offer, but also how extraordinarily fortunate I find my circumstances and the opportunities presented to me.  As we go through our daily hustles, it is easy to lose sight of the basic tenants of a good life—loving family, close friends, employment that not only provides for the body but also nutures the mind, and the overwhelming beauty of nature and its intricacies.  Thanksgiving means something unique for each of us, but I hope you’ll join me in giving thanks for the things we have and rededicating ourselves to helping, without judgment, the many people in our country and across the world who find themselves in less fortunate positions.  In the meantime, please enjoy this beautifully glowing rendition of George Winston’s “Thanksgiving” as it evokes the essence of the season and its sumptuous landscapes.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

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The 12 Years of Christmas

/ Ted C. MacRae / 7 Comments
p1020457_2

Merry Christmas - from our backyard to yours!

They came from completely different backgrounds.  She had grown up in a middle class family, her father an educated professional, her mother a professional homemaker – “Ward and June”, as their now-grown children jokingly call them.  He grew up on welfare, the family breaking up while he was still in elementary school.  She was a popular student – cheerleader, debate team, gymnastics.  He was the introverted science nerd, invisible to the popular, living quietly with his books.  Religion was an important part of her life, growing up Catholic and remaining devoted to the church.  He grew up Catholic but knew even as a child that religion would not provide the answers he was looking for, eventually finding a private spirituality in the creation itself.

Despite these separate paths they found each other and fell in love, and despite their different lives they both wanted the same thing – a family.  Such a simple desire, however, would prove to be difficult to achieve.  When fertility drugs didn’t work, they turned to adoption.  The first match failed.  So did the second.  They understood completely how the birth mothers could change their minds, but that didn’t ease their pain or calm their fears.  Ultimately, they looked to Russia, a new democracy with old attitudes about orphans.  In the fall of their 6th year of marriage, they learned that little Anastasia was waiting for them.  They traveled to Russia before Christmas and became a family after New Years.  In between, they visited little Anastasia every day – one hour at a time – and experienced the joy of being a parent, a feeling they had feared would ever elude them.  On Christmas Day, they could not see little Anastasia, but in a small, gray apartment on the outskirts of Moscow, they celebrated her coming with their gracious host family.  Ten days later, their family was born, and twelve months later they celebrated their first Christmas together at home.

Christmas meant little to me for much of my life.  Yes, it was a time to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends, and the presents were nice.  But my own approach to spirituality has little in common with traditional reflections of the season.  Tonight, as I watched 12-year old Mollie Anastasia laughing with her cousins, hugging her nanny and papa, and teasing her uncle and his partner, I thought back to those cold, snowy days in Russia when my heart became warm for the first time.  I recalled our second trip to Russia six years later, when she and little Madison Irina each met their sister for the first time.  On this Christmas Day, as I have done for 12 years now, I thought about how lucky we are to have these two beautiful little girls that are unquestionably our own.  Christmas means a lot to me now, and that is a gift that not even five golden rings could beat.

Welcome to the “new” Beetles In The Bush

/ Ted C. MacRae / 5 Comments

After much consideration, I have decided to move Beetles In The Bush to its new home here at WordPress.  To those of you coming here from the old site, thank you for following the link.  To those of you who have stumbled upon this site from somewhere else, welcome!

The decision to move was not easy, nor was it taken lightly, but it was something I had been considering for quite awhile.  The debates about WordPress versus Blogger are well chronicled, and you will find many who strongly believe in one or the other.  For me, the choice was not so clear – each offers advantages relative to the other.  What really attracted me to  WordPress, however, was the horizontal menu bar linked to static “Pages” that are separate from chronologically-ordered posts – ideal for expanded profiles, tables of contents, indices, annotated link galleries, etc.  I toyed with different methods for creating these in Blogger and actually found a way to simulate them along with the menu bar.  However, it took a lot of effort learning HTML code, and the results were just not very crisp when compared this standard WordPress feature.  Frankly, I’d rather spend my time writing posts rather than HTML code.  Moreover, I’ve always been impressed with the clean, professional look of the WordPress templates – very attractive.

Nevertheless, the idea of actually moving my blog was still a daunting thought.  Would everything transfer or would I have to start over?  Would I lose my photos?  Would the post formatting get messed up?  The more I researched it, the more feasible it seemed, and when I actually created a site for beta testing I was immediately impressed with the functionality and ease of use.  Setting up the new blog, transferring the posts and comments from the old site, adding the “page” features that I had so long desired, and all the fine-tuning to achieve the “look” that I wanted only took a few hours.  The hardest part was deciding on a template.  Alex may think I simply copied what he did, the truth is I previewed both the initial blog and the finished blog in every template offered by WordPress.  I liked the clean lines, crisp fonts, and simple elegance of this layout.  I also debated about whether to replace the old banner, but ultimately decided a move to a new site deserved a new banner to go along with it.  I suppose switching sites might mess up page stats, Google rankings, and other technical issues that concern serious bloggers.  I’ll need to keep the old site live, since that is where all the photos from the previous posts are housed – that might ‘steal’ hits that would have otherwise come to this site when people do Google searches.  I guess all I can hope is that people landing on the old site will follow the redirect.

So, welcome to the new Beetles In The Bush – I hope you’ll take a moment to explore the new pages.  I’ve included a short biography in About, a Table of Contents with a complete list of posts (and recommendations for some of my favorites), a description of my personal Insect Collection with links to inventories for certain taxa, a complete list of my Publications, and an annotated list of Links that I’ve found useful for identification and nomenclature of insects and plants.  Comments are always welcome, and feel free to Contact me directly if you have specific questions or comments.  Don’t forget to update your links from:

http://beetlesinthebush.blogspot.com

to:

http://beetlesinthebush.wordpress.com