Rhino beetle

Last night, my neighbor Beni presented me with George, the rhino beetle, in a plastic hand phone case. I have wanted to blip one of these critters since I joined blip. This is the beetle that featured in my Bandung story, the one that freed the Denis spider!

So last night I took a lot of test shots. The light was poor and flash was no good, creating too many shadows. My rim light was no good, as it does not fit the lens on the D70 and will need to be modified. George is quite a challenging subject, being so dark in complexion and I established that a few clicks of over exposure would be required, to get any detail.

George is a very slow moving and extremely strong insect. Once it's hooks get attached to your skin, it is very difficult and painful to remove, with two sharp needle claws on each of the six legs. I did not get to measure the beetle, but a reasonable estimate would be 2 inches in length.

One of natures exaggerations, the huge elongated jaws are not functional at least for feeding. The upper jaw is non moving and attached to the body, the lower jaw is fixed to the top of the head and moves as the insect moves it's head around.

I decided to shoot George actually on the back of my hand, as the previous night's test shoot had taught me that this would be the most efficient way of keeping him where I wanted him in the frame. I needed maximum aperture number for depth of field, as he was so large and the over exposure compensation would reduce the shutter speed, so I cranked the ISO up to 1600 and started with three clicks of exposure compensation.

The exposure was a bit too much, but I had intended to process and then fine tune the settings on the second session. But unfortunately I discovered one of Georges hidden talents - he could fly! - and as I was shooting outdoors, that was the last I saw of George! So far from ideal images, I present to you what I have and hope for another opportunity in the future with one of his cousins.

I returned the case to Beni after the shoot. Lili, her brother and mother were also present. They obviously wanted to know how the shoot went, after their efforts to help me. As only Lili speaks a little English, I had to graphically mime the sequence of events, which I did with great enthusiasm and had them all falling about laughing! Just because you cannot speak the language does not mean you cannot communicate, humor is universal, as Mr Bean has proven. Actions are louder than words.

I have seen a lot of poetry posted on Blip, so I thought it about time I shared one of my offerings. It has no relevance to the blip, but I am going to post it anyway. Please be nice, poetry is a personal thing and I feel like I am exposing myself here, I guess it's a comfort zone thing. Hope you enjoy it and it perhaps makes up for the ropey blip:

Why do men have balls?

A very young, sweet little girl named Flo
was sharing a bath with her brother, Joe.
She exclaimed in dismay at the sight of his sac,
"Hey! brother Joe, what the hell is that?"
"What is what?" inquisitively he retorted.
"This", with a fist full of sac she reported.
As he dropped to his knees with a pitiful groan
he uttered these words in a low pitched moan,
"Why do men have balls?"

The very next day on the cricket green
Joe represented his local team.
Distracted by his throbbing jocks
he'd packed his bag and forgot his box!
He made it to the thirteenth over
but now his balls are feeding clover.
He now resides in mental homes.
He never speaks but frequently groans,
"Why do men have balls?"

My youngest, John, when he was four,
came bursting through the kitchen door.
He ran across the carpet, red,
to kiss his Dad, it's time for bed.
His face alight with obvious glee,
he leapt upon my waiting knee.
"Good night", he laid one on my cheek.
I tried a reply but could only squeak,
"Why do men have balls?"

Nature called to sleepy Fred,
On his orthopedic bed.
He rang the bell but no one came,
He struggled with his Zimmer frame.
He made it to the loo in time,
Relief was nigh and life divine.
He forgot to hold his sagging marbles,
He flopped on the seat, in pain he garbles,
"Why do men have balls?"


With pride she ranted, "I can row"
and dropped the anchor on my toe.
I stood too quick and rocked the boat.
I climbed back in, her face a-gloat.
While struggling with the oars and rowlocks
she hit me squarely in the bollocks.
That romantic row across the lake,
turned out to be our final date.
Why do men have balls?

Dave