Oil in the Gulf of Mexico. Lionfish in Biscayne Bay. Asian carp in the Great Lakes. And now —-
For fly fishers who pride themselves on a conservationist ethic, it hurts to discover that they may be trampling on that ethic every time they wade into a trout stream….. Blame their boots — or, more precisely, their felt soles. Growing scientific evidence suggests that felt, which helps anglers stay upright on slick rocks, is also a vehicle for noxious microorganisms that hitchhike to new places and disrupt freshwater ecosystems.
[One] fishing guide…switched to studded rubber-soled waders this year, after the streams near his house, by the White River in the Ozark Mountains, became infected with Didymosphenia geminata, or didymo….A single-celled organism also known as rock snot, didymo has done as much as any invasive species to prompt calls for a ban on felt soles. – NYTimes
Yes folks, it’s rock snot. Coming to a babbling brook near you.
(I swear “Rock Snot” was the name of the opening act for Nirvana about 15 years ago. Can anybody verify this?)
As a morbid adolescent, I frequently entertained the creepy thought that the end of human life wouldn’t arrive in the form of a fiery volcano or colliding meteorite, let alone a series of nuclear explosions. My fear was little things – germs, bugs, bacteria, fungus, spores – which would be all over us before we even knew they were there. You’d turn on the shower one morning and something dark and slimy would gush out, blinding and burning your skin off your bones. You’d be out in a field somewhere playing baseball and all of a sudden there zillions of larvae crawling over everything leaving a slime trail sufficiently viscous to suffocate you. Bwah ha ha you’re dead dead dead.
Anyway, this rock snot looks like something out of my darkest mental closet. And did anybody notice its resemblance to the stuff political opponents throw at each other? Or is that just because I live in Hollywood?