We tend to think of Jupiter as a massive ball just sort of hanging out in space. Quiet. Peaceful. Sporting a big red birthmark on its cheek that the other planets will never bring up because, holy shit, that guy is huge and he'll dick whip us out of existence. Of course, anyone who has paid any sort of attention in basic science classes knows that Jupiter isn't a solid planet ... but it's still hard to not think of it that way, because the Great Red Spot has been around forever and it looks like a surface stain, sitting there motionless. If it was a gas, it would disperse, right?
All of that is shattered, though, when you see that time lapse from 1979, showing the original Voyager's approach to what I'm now referring to as God's Angry Testicle. Fuck you, science, you don't own it. Look at that fucking thing. Holy shit. It's a storm that's three times the size of Earth, and it's whipping around like the Tasmanian Devil, fucking up other cloud systems like it's the only thing that matters. And those other layers -- before seeing your first video of Jupiter in motion, didn't you always picture it as being at least uniform? If this is actually your first time seeing it in motion, you can't tell me you weren't taken aback when you saw those stripes spinning in opposite directions like that.
Seeing it like this makes it look almost liquid. Violent. Alive.
#3. A Bowl of Fruit
That's the not-gross version. And just a fair warning, that means a gross version will be following shortly. This one, however, is just a bowl of fruit left out to rot as a camera took one picture every 40 minutes for 74 days. As you can see, right off the bat, mold really, really likes strawberries, because it annihilates that shit in like half a second. Or several days, since this is time lapse. But still, in relative scientific terms, it fucked those berries up like a bitch.
It's probably because they can produce their own wine.
Now at first, it's interesting because watching shit just dissolve like that is pretty wicked. However, what really grabbed my attention is that the mold was selective and moved in a very defined pattern. It jumped from the strawberries to the peach, because they were obviously touching. But then it skipped over the garlic, potato, avocado and dong squash, attacking the next peach. Like it ramped right over that shit and was like, "Fuck your pansy food. I'm a fuzzy navel kind of dude."
Then I watched in horror as the tomatoes erupted into some sick pimple type of bubbling, dripping, disgusting ooze that is normally reserved for a zombie movie makeup team -- then motherfucking deflated.
I can't watch it without hearing that balloon farting noise. Then again, I hear that when I watch any video at all, ever.
And as promised, here's the meat and maggot version, for those with stronger stomachs:
#2. Slime Mold
Of all the disgusting fungi we've been watching so far, none is more creepy than the slime mold. If you were to stumble across one in a forest, though, the most reaction you'd have would be to casually glance down, give an offhanded "Ew" and continue burying the body. But speed up that fucker's growth cycle, and it's like discovering alien life.
I could show you pictures of it all day, but until you watch that video and see it pulsating like a dying animal, and then pushing outward to cover everything in its path, you haven't really faced any true fears in your life. Here's another one, focusing on just the pulsating:
Gah! Look at that goddamn freak! Pulsing like it's breathing. It looks like it was stripped straight out of a horror film -- like if you were to lean down to touch it, it would leap up and coil around your arm, sucking you in and digesting you slowly as you screamed in vain. But, wait, it gets much, much creepier.
They are actually semi-intelligent. When put into a maze and food is introduced at the entrance and exit, it will find the shortest path between the two pieces and restrict its growth to use only that path. Notice how it not only figures out the path, but ignores the other possible solution because it's longer:
Sweet dreams tonight, kids!
This is actually the reason I started this article. I own one of these plants, and I knew that it was a climber. But I didn't know how it did it. You plant them from seeds, and they start to poke their stupid, unthinking plant faces out of the dirt, and then a few days later, they're wrapping around anything within a few feet. A few weeks after that, they've climbed 10 feet in the air, and you're left wondering how the hell they even found the stuff to latch onto.
If you watch that video, you'll see that once they get to a certain height, they bend their stalks and start swinging them around like a frat boy doing helicopter dick while lying on his back. Then when the stalk bumps into something worth grabbing onto, it twines itself around it in a tight coil like a miniature python, slowly inching its way up the support.
Which is actually how the aforementioned frat boy finds dates.
That a plant has that sort of mobility is amazing, but the mere idea that it has the ability to seek out and find something in that manner with no brain, no eyes, no central nervous system ... I think it proves that the movies that predict us becoming slaves to evolved AI technology are all overlooking a silent, organic predator just waiting for its time to attack. We'll never see it coming, because so far, their means of subterfuge has been moving at a speed undetectable outside of time lapse photography.
John has a Twitter, where he regularly invites people to fuck right off.
For more Cheese, check out 12 Things You'll Wish You'd Never Seen Under a Microscope and 5 Ways to Tell You're Getting Too Old for Video Games.