You know that theory that nothing worth having is ever handed to you on a platter? Ngo Van Tri, a reptile scientist from the Vietnam Academy of Science and technology recently learned that’s a bunch o’ hooey.
Dr. Van Tri found a totally unknown species of lizard, not by sweating his Ph.D. off in some desert or crawling under dangerous rocks, but by noticing some remarkably similar looking lizards that were captive a tank in a rural restaurant in the Mekong River delta. But they weren’t just in captivity—they were on the menu.
Dr. Van Tri contacted some colleagues in the U.S., Dr. Lee Grismer and his doctoral-candidate son, both herpetologists (that’s someone who studies lizards, not herpes) who flew to Vietnam from California, then motorbiked for two days to get to a rural village in which a restaurateur had promised to keep some specimens for them. Instead, the restaurateur got drunk and cooked up the great discovery.
The three scientists were able to acquire more of the lizards elsewhere. They dubbed the newfound species Leiolepis ngovantrii—which is Latin for “the honor of having a species being named after you has just been handed to you on a platter.”
So, this is a Coen Brothers movie, right? And because it sounds like a Coen Brothers movie, you doubt there’s going to be any sex. Well, there is… in the fact that…there isn’t.
That’s actually the most interesting part of the whole thing. The lizards looked so much alike because they were alike: they were all females and reproduced by cloning themselves. No males required.
And we human females thought we were such rebels when we discovered we could raise kids without a man. There we were in the ’70s, humming the theme to One Day at a Time, polishing the chip on our shoulder before checking the “Ms.” box on various forms and the whole time there were lizards—and wasps—who didn’t even need males to conceive, much less run the results to soccer practice.
The process is called parthenogenesis, Greek for “virgin birth.” It occurs in some species of fish, spiders, invertebrates, amphibians…and a few lizards. Some animals reproduce both sexually and asexually: With honeybees, for example, the males arise from unfertilized eggs, females and queens from fertilized eggs. Some species go back and forth between asexual and sexual reproduction based on environmental factors, such as population and food supply. (Which reminds me of Faye Dunaway in China Town: “She’s my daughter. She’s my sister. She’s my daughter…”)
Shortly before the discovery of the lunch lizards, scientists at the North Carolina State University found that a female boa constrictor had reproduced asexually, a feat never before heard of in these reptiles. Ms. Snake had a brood the traditional way previously; then suddenly, with no change in environmental conditions, produced two broods of all-girl snakelets with her distinctive pattern.
Are these signs of a changing environment in which males won’t be needed? Where women can shut their eyes like Jeannie (as in, I Dream of…) and “Boioioing!” knock themselves up? Where men are encouraged to just deposit their unneeded DNA into a wadded up Kleenex, like they did before we met them?
Dr. Van Tri found a totally unknown species of lizard, not by sweating his Ph.D. off in some desert or crawling under dangerous rocks, but by noticing some remarkably similar looking lizards that were captive a tank in a rural restaurant in the Mekong River delta. But they weren’t just in captivity—they were on the menu.
Dr. Van Tri contacted some colleagues in the U.S., Dr. Lee Grismer and his doctoral-candidate son, both herpetologists (that’s someone who studies lizards, not herpes) who flew to Vietnam from California, then motorbiked for two days to get to a rural village in which a restaurateur had promised to keep some specimens for them. Instead, the restaurateur got drunk and cooked up the great discovery.
The three scientists were able to acquire more of the lizards elsewhere. They dubbed the newfound species Leiolepis ngovantrii—which is Latin for “the honor of having a species being named after you has just been handed to you on a platter.”
So, this is a Coen Brothers movie, right? And because it sounds like a Coen Brothers movie, you doubt there’s going to be any sex. Well, there is… in the fact that…there isn’t.
That’s actually the most interesting part of the whole thing. The lizards looked so much alike because they were alike: they were all females and reproduced by cloning themselves. No males required.
And we human females thought we were such rebels when we discovered we could raise kids without a man. There we were in the ’70s, humming the theme to One Day at a Time, polishing the chip on our shoulder before checking the “Ms.” box on various forms and the whole time there were lizards—and wasps—who didn’t even need males to conceive, much less run the results to soccer practice.
The process is called parthenogenesis, Greek for “virgin birth.” It occurs in some species of fish, spiders, invertebrates, amphibians…and a few lizards. Some animals reproduce both sexually and asexually: With honeybees, for example, the males arise from unfertilized eggs, females and queens from fertilized eggs. Some species go back and forth between asexual and sexual reproduction based on environmental factors, such as population and food supply. (Which reminds me of Faye Dunaway in China Town: “She’s my daughter. She’s my sister. She’s my daughter…”)
Shortly before the discovery of the lunch lizards, scientists at the North Carolina State University found that a female boa constrictor had reproduced asexually, a feat never before heard of in these reptiles. Ms. Snake had a brood the traditional way previously; then suddenly, with no change in environmental conditions, produced two broods of all-girl snakelets with her distinctive pattern.
Are these signs of a changing environment in which males won’t be needed? Where women can shut their eyes like Jeannie (as in, I Dream of…) and “Boioioing!” knock themselves up? Where men are encouraged to just deposit their unneeded DNA into a wadded up Kleenex, like they did before we met them?
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