It’s back! Mystery Anatomy is in full swing again after a lovely summer holiday in Antarctica- check out its fabulous tan freezerburn! We now have a new scoreboard page, too, for your convenience.
Today is another poetry round, which means you not only get 1 pt for trying but also can amaze and delight us all– and win extra points for rhapsodizing in sublime eloquence at the marvel of nature you are about to behold!
The poetry form for today is the SONNET. 14 lines as usual, but we’ll relax the form and allow you to be maximally creative– just include some rhyming, but you do not need to stick to iambic pentameter or other rigid, galling forms. You must (1) identify the specimen, (2) explain what’s important/unusual about it, and (3) have fun.
Look upon this foul form, feel its greasy exterior and inhale deeply of the same rancid perfume that might have graced Pliny’s or Caesar’s aquiline nose, while your mind reels at its historical significance, which spurred on one individual of some note to exclaim “I was so ignorant I do not even know there were three varieties… how do they differ?”
Difficulty: The poetry will be the hardest part for some.
Stomach-Churning Rating: 2/10. Again, the main threat here is the poetry.
Proceed, morpho-poets; let this museum specimen be no paltry muse!
Some labels to help those unfamiliar with the wonders of chicken foot anatomy! The position I’ve labelled the “extra toe” in is arbitrary; it might be “toe 1” that is the new toe. That might make more developmental sense, that the identity of “toes” has migrated up the limb to add a new toe– and is the spur in male chickens also spurred on by similar signals? No one knows, I think.
What's In John's Freezer? 
Fourteen lines you ask for now,
make us write poetry – but how?
A pheasanid’s foot, or close,
you show us here,
what funny toes are those?
I need a beer!
One too many toes I count,
just of three have I ever heard,
is this a taxidermic mount
of more then a single bird?
But no, a mutant it seems to be,
not a monster from the sea,
a Polyplectron with three spurs,
that has four toes from some curse!
(or some other spurred fowl, with additional, aberrant spurs. Sorry for the horrible “poetry”; I am still fighting that paper)
Karthikeya’s mount foretells the rain’s falling
Unblinking eyes are unlidded en masse
a harsh voice now the deluge is calling
predicting a future that may come to pass.
When Argus slumbered to the sound of the flute,
and Hermes ensured his demise,
Hera then gave our galliforme beauty
The gift of his one hundred eyes.
There are three of their kind that inhabit the forests:
the Indian, Congo and Green.
They are symbols of wealth, admired for their beauty
in mansion’s gardens they can often be seen.
To the the Peafowl or Peacock does this pes belong,
so say I, though perhaps I am really quite wrong?
When spurs are spied on a tarsomet,
It’s phasianid galliforms on which you can bet,
But here yet we see at least two of those listed,
Combined with a hallux that’s horribly twisted,
Ordinarily Gallus would be our first cruising,
Yet gracility and such puts end to such musing.
The text Hutch provides looks peppered with clues,
Of classics, allusions to forms we might lose,
But Polyplectron has four, not a three, am I right?
Here, Pavo’s low spur position wins in a fight,
I could well be wrong, and fooled by a rooster,
But domestic mutations aren’t what this blog’s used-to,
With doubt in my heart I am thus led to say,
That a two-spurred peacock perhaps wins the day….
Pavo ?
I’m wrong, aren’t I? It >is< a mutant rooster.
muhahaha mum’s the word
The Curse of The Claw
in iambic tetrameter
This fowl polyungulate beast
Nigh on two millennia whence
Brought to British soil for a feast
To fuel the Roman Conquest hence
Dar-loser, he’s more Dork than King
Counting types, missed another two
Discerned by combs and colouring
Red, White, Silver-grey, Dark, Cuckoo
About the foot, what can be said?
Right pes, broken digits, six claws
It’s more than a century dead
Like most things in museum drawers
Gallus gallus (domestic stock)
Insert pun about nine pound cock
Has my vote for best line.
I will not attempt to reply
Should I try and fail,
It can only be seen as sign
That I have no hope to vie
Within this most railing contest of late.
Should I try I might say
That this bird has five toes,
Of which two are halluces paired
Beneath the spur. I pray
I might be right, but worries so
That even that I dared this reply is still late.
Our good friend John has set another task:
“Identify some putrid old remains.”
This specimen’s old host we must unmask
And give to him forthwith the beast’s true name.
The jutting weaponry, a spike, a spur,
Hints to me a bird, the peacock-pheasant
but my poetic colleagues don’t concur;
Disagreement could become unpleasant.
Are they right, is it a common rooster?
Gallus gallus, could it be more mundane?
Surely not, this needs a little booster,
A tasty turkey foot could take the blame.
It’s time for me to leave this petty fight
We had a go, did someone get it right?
Answer tomorrow, my good chums
For now, just sit there on your bums
And watch some others compose fine sonnets
Who shall win? None can say; place bets upon it?
I’m never an expert at identifying these
But clearly it’s a bird foot, below the knees.
That great big spike makes me think a rooster is the answer to this mystery
Pliny described the cockatrice, or basilisk- if you read ancient history.
Perhaps the broken toe happened when the rooster contested
Pliny’s cockatrice, which was eventually bested.
You’re mentioning Romans so I’m straining to connect
The picture with your description in every aspect.
But I’m sure there’s something more interesting
To this picture that I’m surely missing.
Regardless of my answer, this poem is bad
My rhyming brings to mind a limerick rather than a sonnet; how sad.
Reading this might prove astonishingly painful
Poetry composition is not how I maintain employment, however gainful.
I once saw a critter
In water that glittered
By the light of the austral moon
Could it be one of those
Or do you suppose
I’m being a total buffoon?
Looks birdy, but then…
Perhaps not a hen.
Five toes and a spur…
did it maybe have fur?
It was certainly beaky
But otherwise freaky.
Is it quite wrong to think
Male Ornithorhynch…?
This rhyme is more Suessical than iambic pentameter, but here goes:
“How cruel to force a foot iambic,
But the game is afoot, so I will just cram it.
As fancy a fowl a fowl fancier fancied,
The spur on this foot means this fowl was no nancy.
He may be a dork, but we like geeks and nerds,
Romans and Brits must have dined on these birds.
Several breeds of G. gallus are pentadactyl,
The Silkie, the Houdan, and Sultan are quite fanciful.
A fowl with an august lineage, there need be no more looking,
There can be only one, and that is the Dorking.”
Of course, I may be quite wrong, but either way I wait (im)patiently for the answer!
The metatarsal of the rooster
is armed with both spur and claw.
In medicine he supplies pox booster,
but fighting is the biggest draw.
Two cocks fight to the end
and loser feet are stockpot bound
or fried till crispy dim sum blend
and sold to diners by the pound.
Accessory metatarsus is a clue
Of these this bird has clearly two
Or perhaps three, it’s hard to see
At this game I’m pretty new.
Although I’m only hoary horde
I hope to gain points with this bird.
This game be devilishly hard
thus cried the famous bard,
Would that I studied anatomy,
not wasted time on poetry.
Like an arrow loosed,
or a hen that´s goosed,
I go with great speed,
but it’s deliberation I need.
I have nary a clue,
and an answer is due.
So I say to you,
twas once an emu.
You might think me simplistic,
but I think that trait is atavistic.
Guh, I hung my poetry up to dry a long time ago… but I have these critters as pets. It’s a silky chicken. Rooster, because of the bone for the spur sheath.
Your poems rang a chord in my heart
Sweet as any biscuit, lolly or tart
Such sage whispers of heavenly wisdom
I was hurled into chasms of starry-eyed bliss then
“But what of the answer, please tell us John now!”
I have 8 lines left, so please don’t have a cow
It was indeed a creature of poultry affinity
Of fame that may echo on into infinity
But ’tis no peacock, pheasant nor monotreme
The clues were all variations upon a theme
Of Romans, Darwin and five-toed anatomy
There is only one fowl of such fame, take that from me
Mark Robinson spoke the answer that sparkled with truth
Dorking Chicken, mighty mutant cock, pray forsooth!
=======
http://www.finedictionary.com/Dorking%20fowl.html
But that was awesome! You guys rocked! Thanks to everyone for the kick-ass sonnets! +6 points for Mark, who rockets way into the lead! +4 points for Heinrich, Stu, Darren, Michael, Jaime, Carolyn, Amy, Lisa, Carol, hypnotosov; +2 for Colleen and +1 for William Pérez. Scores updated on the scoreboard: https://whatsinjohnsfreezer.com/2013/05/02/scoreboard/ (you have to post in the Comments to get on the scoreboard)
There are some helpful anatomy labels in the image above and here: https://whatsinjohnsfreezer.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/mystery12b.jpg
This specimen is from the NHM at Tring, where the bird specimens are kept, and was Charles Darwin’s own personal research specimen in 1868, when he was studying artificial selection in chicken breeds! How cool is that? Dorking Fowl are famed for being genetically predisposed toward having extra toes and other strange traits. I’ve seen some with two spurs on the foot, too.
Remain vigilant! There will be another round in not too long; I already have the image cocked and loaded…
I saw the date on the specimen but it didn’t click with me that it has a direct connection to Charles Darwin (whom I blasphemed by referring to as a loser and dork when he was neither – poetic license is my only defence).
When I was a kid we had a Chinese Silkie Bantam rooster with 11 toes and 13 claws/spurs. They weren’t initially obvious because of its feathery feet but when I saw them I thought that they would be what dragon’s feet would look like.
Lastly, I wish to applaud the ridiculous number of puns that you somehow managed to get away with. Hopefully you weren’t trying to gall us. 😉
-1000000000000 points for blasphemy! 🙂
[…] recently with the Dorking Chicken (another of Darwin’s own specimens that I studied) in the “Mystery Museum Specimen” poetry round of late. Dorkings are HUGE chickens; easily twice the weight of even a broiler chicken, up to […]