There have been five mass extinctions since jellyfish showed up on the scene. One of those extinctions, the Great Dying, killed off nine out of ten species on Earth.
Here’s a calculation: If all the time that’s passed since jellyfish showed up were compressed into a single eighty-year life-span, three billion heartbeats, humans would appear on the scene only during the person’s final ten days on Earth—the last million heartbeats or so.
“Well, I want you to know,” she continued, as if I’d answered her, “everybody grieves in different ways. There’s not a right way or a wrong way to grieve for someone you loved.”
I tried feeling those atoms, tried to sense if there was anything inside me that might inspire me to burst out with To be, or not to be or Wherefore art thou, but I couldn’t.
He discovered a never-before-seen jellyfish in the darkest part of the ocean. It had a red part inside the bell that could crumple or expand, just like a folding paper lantern. Named it the Paper Lantern jellyfish. I like how literal that is.
Here I was, just one out of seven billion people, and people were just one species out of ten million, and those ten million were just a tiny fraction of all the species that ever existed, and somehow all of us fit onto that fleck of brown dust on the screen.
To remember Captain James Cook, who sailed to Australia, we just needed to remember him as the cook in a restaurant that catered exclusively to koalas and kangaroos.
To remember Captain James Cook, who sailed to Australia, we just needed to remember him as the cook in a restaurant that catered exclusively to koalas and kangaroos.
In the first video I saw him in, Jamie jumped into water that was swarming with deadly jellyfish—I’m talking about jellyfish that could kill him in three minutes flat—like it was nothing at all.