As Darren points out, there are some others. But most animals can, indeed, produce vitamin C in their own bodies. Presumably after our ancestor lost the ability, it wasn’t a fatal mutation because they had a diet already rich in vitamin C, so it didn’t make a difference. It was only when people started taking long sea voyages and the like that vitamin C deficiencies showed up as scurvy.
Ironically, the rats on board didn’t suffer from scurvy as the sailors did – their bodies were simply making their own vitamin C.
What’s insidious is that vitamin C apparently deteriorates rapidly, so taking on board a supply of vitamin C isn’t as easy as you’d think. Why it is that it survives in line juice and sauerkraut, but deteriorated to a useless byproduct in other cases (and, for that matter, how we keep the vitamin C from deteriorating in bottles of modern supplements) I admit I do not know. But early attempts to prevent scurvy by bringing on board foods that should have prevented it , but which didn’t, must have been a severe test of the Scientific Method.
In the beginning, it disrupted their supply chain. Obviously, they recovered from this early hit and thrived on Prohibition as they found other supply sources. But in the beginning the moonshiners (backed by the KKK), who experienced no such disruption, were able to make inroads utilizing already existent, illegal, distribution networks.
Mmmmmmm – fresh-squeezed rat juice!
I suspect Vitamin C doesn’t get stored in some useful place from which it can be easily extracted. Still, what do I know. The Learned Master commented on how Eskimos obtain vitamin C from the animals they killed:
A few months back I caught myself working on the lathe with reading glasses because I couldn’t see my work well enough–not a good idea. I searched Amazon and found that safety reading glasses are a thing. Very cool for the not-so-young crowd.
I learned today (14-Aug) that in my County if you construct an island in your kitchen you are required to provide an electrical receptacle at the island itself. Makes it difficult to build an island if the kitchen is atop a concrete slab.
I just learned that what my friends and family call Navaisms already had a name! But damn, Navaism is easier to spell…
Yep, I do that a lot. Specially in business meetings: once you’ve punted a business cliche out of the field, people do stay awake waiting to see what else you come up with.
I learned that stagecoaches were a major technological development.
The old system of traveling by horse and wagon had been around for thousands of years. You have a wagon and a team of horses and you’d hitch your horses to your wagon. Then that team of horses would pull the wagon until you arrived at your destination. Because that one team was making the whole trip, you had to maintain a slow pace so they wouldn’t get exhausted.
A team of horses could pull a wagon at a much faster pace but they could only maintain that pace for about twelve miles. So somebody had a bright idea: what if you just switched teams of horses every twelve miles?
Companies designed wagons so that you could change the team of horses in under ten minutes. Then they would build a series of stops along the route every twelve miles, each with teams of horses ready. The coaches would just race between them, stop at each station, quickly change teams, and get back on the route.
Even with the frequent stops, stagecoach travel tripled the speed a passenger could travel.
The cat was cornered and beaten to death by two women wielding large sticks, and when it was brought back to the camp, a biologist weighed it and examined its internal organs for disease, and its stomach for the contents, before the carcass was skinned and placed on a bonfire.
That some some strange architectural features in my local area are remants of an planned canal project that ran out of money. http://www.dorandsomcanal.org/features.htm
We had our annual bonfire at Abbott’s Magic Get-Together. Every year someone brings our, “Sacred Scotch that cannot be Scotch” and we have a ritual of vanishing it. It is worth noting that I do not drink, but I will sometimes take a small sip of our Sacred Scotch just to say that I’ve tasted it. This year we had a guy bring Malort.
I decided to take a small sip. It was absolutely awful. In general I think all alcohol tastes terrible, but this was truly the most vile and disgusting thing I have ever tasted… and everyone else agreed. So next year we will be introducing a new amendment to our “Rules”:
Do I take it that that’s the reason for the expression stage-coach (which I’d never particularly thought about before) – the doing of the journey in successive twelve-mile stages?
I learned this week that a guy wrote a couple of novels about a president named “Trump”, who lived at the address of Trump Tower, had a cabinet member named “Pence”, and whose election caused riots in the streets. Strangely this Trump was named Baron, not Donald, and the second book was named: “The Last President”.
You confuse the matter, sir. There are two books by Ingersoll Lockwood; the first, “Baron Trump’s Marvellous Underground Adventure” is a Munchhausen-style adventure fantasy that has little or nothing to do with politics, and “1900, or the Last President” is a rabid little anti-Populist potboiler that can be summed up as “William Jennings Bryant sucks LOL”. It does mention a man named Pence - once.