"He instinctively can find the shining greatness of our American culture and does a good job of highlighting it (although he also does have those rare lapses when he writes about hockey, but that is something caused by impurities in the Eastern waters or something)." Erik Keilholtz
Under the patronage of St. Tammany
Mark C. N. Sullivan is an editor at a Massachusetts university. He is married and the father of three children. Email
Google is a fickle mistress: The Berkeley palaeontologists have retained the lead on Irish elk, but add quote marks and, voila.
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Megaceros Hibernicus figures into this poem by James Brunton Stephens on love amid the natural-history exhibits:
Through the Museum-windows played
The light on fossil, cast, and chart;
And she was there, my Gwendoline,
The mammal of my heart.
She leaned against the Glyptodon,
The monster of the sculptured tooth;
She looked a fossil specimen
Herself, to tell the truth.
She leaned against the Glyptodon;
She fixed her glasses on her nose;
One Pallas-foot drawn back displayed
The azure of her hose.
Few virtues had she of her own--
She borrowed them from time and space;
Her age was eocene, although
Post-tertiary her place.
The Irish Elk that near us stood,
Scarce dwarfed her; while I bowed beneath
Her stately overplus…
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Naturalist and writer Richard Ellis of the American Museum of Natural History, interviewed by the NYT, on the prospects of a real-life Jurassic Park:
The technology of today is not advanced enough to recreate a dinosaur from a drop of blood preserved in amber, but it might really be possible to recreate a Tasmanian tiger. If they succeeded, I'd certainly want to see it. I'd love to see a recreated Irish elk. I'd be first in line for that.