Yeah, that's a terrible post title. But I'm desperate, lately. It's getting more difficult to see growth in the genre, and I'm wondering what that means. In the meantime, I found this newspaper item in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch summarizing the benefits and dangers (to humans) of various fungi throughout history. The really "frightening" thing is the the now (in)famous Ophiocordyceps unilateralis sensu lato fungus (Thank you Wikipedia). The fungus "hijacks" the brains of insects (typically ants, it seems) and drives them to climb to the highest branches of trees where the ants will hold on tight in a literal death grip while the fungus eats them from inside, eventually growing out of the insect body to produce spores that will become air-borne. The higher this blossoming takes place, the more likely the spores will spread. For a plant, this is an ingenious way of achieving two modes of locomotion: first through the feet of the insect host, and second on the gusts of wind that will make for a much wider disbursement of the spores. It was this method of parasitism that M.R. Carey used so successfully in his zombie novel The Girl with All the Gifts (and the later film adaptation built from Mike Carey's screenplay). But the fungus is not the only parasite that takes control of the mind of its host. Apparently the Dinocampus coccinellae wasp is itself infected with a virus that it passes to other insects.This process works when the host insect is captured by the wasp and injected with the wasp's eggs. Also injected into the host's body is the virus, which rapidly increases and paralyzes the insect. This living statue soon becomes a food store as the wasp eggs hatch and the wasp larvae feed on the host. The mature stage wasps that then emerge from the (now dead) insect become new carriers for the zombie virus. Of course, we are not ourselves immune from the single-celled parasite known as Toxoplasma gondii. This parasite is most commonly found in mammals, in a predator-prey cycle that can even involve humans. Mice pick up the organism through contact with infected feces, and pass it along to the predator mammals that eat them. Scientists have found that the Toxoplasma gondii "zombifies" the mice by somehow making them fearless or less willing to run from their hunters. Indeed, the hunted rodent may even develop a bizarre liking for it's hunter, making it easy prey indeed. More distressing, the parasite infects but does not affect the cat, which serves as a host that transfers the organism to another prey animal: humans. Is it possible that a human infected with Toxoplasma gondii (through contact with the dirty litter box or sandbox) develops a love for cats? Could the "crazy cat lady" be a zombie of sorts? Since we are on the subject of parasites, have you read Jeremy Robert Johnson's short story "When Susurrus Stirs" yet? It is available in his Entropy in Bloom collection. It is a wholly disturbing tale of parasitical zombification. Of course most of the the stories in this collection qualify as "disturbing," but that's to be expected when you are as incredibly "wild" of mind and talented of pen as Jeremy Robert Johnson. A disquieting short film adaptation of "When Susurrus Stirs" is available online, and that should be enough to encourage you to click over to Amazon.com and search for anything available from this brilliant writer.
That's enough talk about parasites today. But be reassured that when I toss together my salad for today's lunch, each leaf will be washed and soaked thoroughly.
