“And on your left… a whole lot of nothin’”

Hello fellow travelers. This is your resident blogger speaking.

It appears as if we’ve just burned through our first (rather) substantial quiet period here on our outward journey. Call it a void, the Big Empty, or a whole lot of nothing.. it seems I’ve succumbed to that which plagues even the greatest amongst us.

But fear not; Outwardbounder is not without her helmsman.

Yes I know, it may look as if this ship’s been hurtling blind and trackless.. But I’ve prepared my barrel-full of excuses. It’s practically bubbling over-

I’ve been below deck (that’s my last nautical metaphor, I promise), seeing to some ‘real life’ duties that puts food on the table and keeps an internet connection humming. You know – general long term welfare type stuff. I’ve recently taken a new job and have just got over that baby-giraffe-wobbly period where it seems I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. 10 hour days have seemingly cut into my fanciful side.

But no longer!

I’m actually cranking out a rough draft of this very post here on the first break o’ the day. This ship cannot be stopped! (Damn)

In the meantime, I’ve had one helluva backlog in creativity. It’s like a dam that’s sectioned off all of my creative juices. As you can see from all of these awkward and particularly forced metaphors.. I gotta tear that sonofabitch down!

It’s high time that I let you guys know that Outwardbounder is alive and kicking, and there are actually some pretty cool undertakings in the works.

First off: Peer reviews! I’ve found it my good fortune to be reading some very cool works by some writer friends of mine. I’ve gone over their stuff at some length and have always been impressed. I love being a part of this step in the process, and am so grateful that they’ve sought out my input.

Check these guys out here and here. You wont be disappointed.

This is a perfect way to get my head back in the game. I’m completely open to other such reviews as well, if you’re so inclined. I would be happy to post them on this humble blog as well… if… if you’re so inclined. Hit me up.

Second off: That creative backlog, I mentioned. It’s overwhelming. The stuff has been ricocheting between my cerebral hemispheres for far too long. You know you should start getting that stuff on paper after you’ve started your 4th, 5th or 17th story outline. A man can only take so much brainstorming before it has some kind of permanent effect.

I’ve got one about a time traveler that projects himself to the end of the universe; one momentous slice at a time.

A guy’s family reunion with a long lost Neanderthal.

Human intelligence seen from a ruthless cephalopod’s POV.

An alien hive-mind cloud whose idea of greeting involves skewering, impaling, and piercing.

One with universe hopping the long way around – i.e, waiting for a habitable universe to evolve up around you.

And most importantly, dinosaurs that might not be dinosaurs but probably are because they’re awesome enough to be actual dinosaurs.


–As you might imagine, my daydreaming and actual-dreaming have been pretty hectic lately.

So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. For those of you that find such things agreeable; Outwardbounder will be experiencing a concerted effort by her captain to make a comeback. My presence on twitter has been spiking again, and I’ve devoted some time to Pinterest in a means to kickstart that ever-elusive artistic muse.

Check them both out. They’re full of creative, interesting people. And they’re a good way to ruminate on imaginative subjects. That’s the service I strive to provide, after all.

I’ve also got my mind on beginning a proper youtube page, with possible video accompaniment for these blog posts. DeviantART seems like a good idea for my cartoony doodling skills as well. Any content is good content, right?

Once again: Thanks for sticking around, if you did. Many welcomes to those first-timers. Much love to all you guys. Kick back, check out a story or poem or two; on me. There’s bound to be more incoming not far on that galactic horizon.

Outward Reviews: Guerillas

I’ve said it before, the monkey game can be a tough nut to crack. Preconceived notions of the apish persuasion aren’t exactly flattering to the genre. Monkeys are viewed as clowns. Beta humans; their lines to the animal kingdom christening them incomplete versions of ourselves. They’re either disturbing or hilarious. Spectacle is king.

“Look at that monkey dance! Monkeys aren’t supposed to dance!”

*Giddy laughter*

*Cracking whip*

“Dance monkey, dance!”

You know the drill.

Goliath with his little helper.

Goliath with his little helper.

Unless your goal is a healthy coating of cheek, you’d expect a genuine attempt at drama featuring our furry cousins to be a fool’s errand. How poignant can a scene be when the prime movers are convicted shit-slingers? Throwing comics into this mix, you’ve got an uphill battle so steep you’d wish you had a prehensile tail just to hold on. It’s a nigh-impossibility!

I was pleasantly surprised to be proved dead-fuck-wrong when I discovered Brahm Revel’s fantastic graphic series, Guerillas.

First released in 2008 by Image comics, Guerillas couldn’t exactly escape the “stinking ape” stigma and was later picked up for continuation/distribution by Oni Press. Though it may not feature unitard-clad superheroes, Guerillas has been steadily gaining cred through 5-star reviews by fans and the kind of steady attention that a deserving work of art merits.

Did I mention that ape-fiction has a fan base? I know I painted a grim picture a few paragraphs ago, but there is a silver lining. Perhaps it’s that mystical power of well-armed primates? Who knows, but if ever there were a work of ‘damn good’ simian drama that deserved recognition, it is Revel’s series.

Guerillas is the tale of a fresh new recruit named John Clayton and his introduction to the hellhole of atrocities that is the Vietnam War. Our boy John is painted as a wide-eyed young chap who seriously miscalculated when he decided to earn his aloof father’s respect by enlisting. This kid could barely hurt a fly. There are genuinely disturbing instances depicted when John and his platoon comb through the jungle and.. do what American GI’s did.

The grim mug of Dr. Worzle.. who would obviously have an awesome catch-phrase if he were... you know... into that whole 'talking' thing.

The grim mug of Dr. Worzle.. who would obviously have an awesome catch-phrase if he were… you know… into that whole ‘talking’ thing.

The writing is strong throughout. The interactions of the soldiers, while unflattering, remain candid and realistic. It’s got all the conflict and inner turmoil of your big time war flicks; your Platoons and your Apocalypse Nows, all coated in beautiful four-by-four. The art is minimalistic, yet sumptuously illustrated in layers of heavy shadow and bright sunlight. The attention to detail shows: from the rendering of a soldier’s rucksack to the inferred acrobatic antics of the titular primates.

Oh yeah, the chimps! Things take off when our hero buckles under pressure, witnesses his entire squad mowed down by Vietcong and does nothing. It’s at this point that he’s rescued by a group of ‘artificially enhanced’, battle trained chimpanzee commandos. And they don’t exactly take to him at first.

It’s obvious that Revel did his chimpanzee homework. His depictions are spot on. Social interactions are fully represented here, with ‘shit-your-pants’ dominance displays and termite foraging featured just like you’d see it on National Geographic: minus the combat fatigues.

John meets the monkeys.

John meets the monkeys.

Big bruisers like John Bull and Goliath puff on cigarettes; a habit abnormally trained chimps exhibit in real life. Smaller chimps like Goblin and Faben bound shrilly through the trees. These are behaviors (and names) that you see plastered all over nature documentaries. This authenticity legitimizes the story and almost lulls you into forgetting that you’re reading a comic about M-16 toting primates.

It’s this extra effort to tell a good story that is prevalent in Guerillas. It adds nuance and a deeper level of enjoyability to an otherwise fantastic ‘shoot-em up’ war comic. All the right layers are here: Good guys, bad guys, moral ambiguity about who the good guys and bad guys are, mad scientists, swearing; one liner spouting soliders, action, dramatic tension, chimpanzees hooting while they unload a clip into an unsuspecting village..

Guerillas gets my wholehearted stamp of approval. In the world of ape-pulp, this comic stands as a shining example of how to do it right.

Oh. And it’s got a baboon named Adolph that is probably the creepiest loose-cannon character that I’ve ever seen. Way to do that name proud, Adolph… *shivers*

You can get a free digital copy of Guerillas on comixology.com. Not a bad deal for a double-feature sized comic about monkeys.

All My Yesterdays: An Evolutionary Snapshot of Dinosaur Doodles

So a while back I wrote a review on this pretty boss paleoart book. I raved about it, enjoying its refreshing stance and bold ideas concerning a long childhood obsession of mine. All Yesterdays brought a cunning and much needed twist to the newest trends in dinosaur restoration. It highlighted a kind of common sense mentality that seemingly goes missing with the world at large. Dinosaurs were animals.

How could I 'not' salivate at the mouth for this opportunity?!

How could I ‘not’ salivate at the mouth for this opportunity?!

I’ll grant you: Kind of an obvious statement, but I’d argue it’s a message that the majority of people tend to forget. All too often, dinosaurs are regulated to the children’s section of popular culture. And as hard as it is to accept, Mesozoic earth was almost certainly NOT like a page out of a 1950’s pulp magazine.

At its core, this is why I enjoyed the book. It isn’t often that you get such a level-headed and adult take on the subject of dinosaurs.

So why am I doing all of this fanboy harping all over again? Why did I think you guys needed the refresher course on how awesome this book is? Trust me, I’m going somewhere with this rant.

The rough draft version of my All Yesterday's contest entry. Note: I've always used notebook paper. It ain't a doodle without notebook paper.

The rough draft version of my All Yesterday’s contest entry. Note: I’ve always used notebook paper. It ain’t a doodle without notebook paper.

The good folks over at Irregular Books have just finished with their own art contest based on All Yesterdays concepts. 200+ entrants were tallied, and luckily, (thanks heavily to a 10 day extension window) I was able to submit my own piece. I gotta thank those guys for so much grace. Us writer types can be real “last minute” monkeys. At any rate: It took a few rough drafts and aborted attempts, but my precarious doodle and Corel Paint skills saw me through. Taking up the pencil was cool and all, but the most interesting facet emerged when I did a little research. I looked back over some very old “circa 1998” pictures I’d concocted, and was stunned to realize just how prescient I failed to be! I’d fallen into strict 90’s paleoart a trend… and I’d fallen hard.

One of the arguments All Yesterdays makes was that of shrink wrapping: Coating the reconstructed bones of dinosaurs with the thinnest semblance of muscle, skin, and integumentary bites-o-goodness. You didn’t want to speculate too hard, back on those olden days, lest you be labeled a quaking crank.

This “anorexiation” of dinosaurs came from a backlash when paleontologists started viewing dinosaurs as sleek, warm-blooded, speedsters… as opposed to the lumbering walnut-brains of past fame. This Dinosaur Renaissance was spearheaded by an old hero of mine, Robert Bakker; along with his disciple, Gregory S Paul.

Lookin' pretty skinny there, slick. This is my 90's interpretation of some ... ancestral... dromeosaurid? I suppose I figured all cool dinosaurs needed the sickle claw.

Lookin’ pretty skinny there, slick. This is my 90’s interpretation of some … ancestral… dromeosaurid? I suppose I figured all cool dinosaurs needed the sickle claw.

Ribcage sporting dinosaurs were all the rage through the early 1990’s and I was a born again convert.

Lets just say, you couldn’t get my nose out from one of Paul’s gorgeously illustrated books. It was a physical impossibility. Weeks could pass and parents could worry, but I wasn’t fucking letting go.

So I guess it wasn’t much of a surprise when an adult version of me came across one of these little gems.

Shrink wrapping happens, my friends. Witness it to your horror!

Anyways.. I thought that was kind of funny. And a little eye opening. Heed the wisdom of All Yesterday’s dogma. I’ve re-converted. Now my ornithopods have fuzz. It’s the circle of life.

Evolution in action.

Seriously though, if you haven’t read the book, you should check it out.

Now with color. I feel I've come a long way. I call this piece Beachcomber.

Now with color. I feel I’ve come a long way. I call this piece Beachcomber.

Short Fiction: Sapience Test

Sapience Test

Complements MrSummers

Complements MrSummers

An earthling approaches the

Megalithic structure seems luminous, reluctantly

Flickers, blinks at her like tail lights upended

In mist

It rose, long before

Now it flowers, again

Grasping with algorithms and preset programs, like

A chain it pulls itself free from non-being

It clamors, triple checks, settles without deciding on

An adequate response and

So it speaks

To a being from earth

“Welcome to Nexus.”

“I am a Cognition Interface Kiosk. You have activated me by stimulating my matrices of proximity and perceived purpose. Your intent has been deemed clear and focused to the extent it necessitates inquiry. Rest assured, your physical requirements are a top priority. I will be glad to assist you in any way that I can.”

“Firstly, let me thank you for including me in your perceptual field layout. Inclusion is the fundament for millions of species that match your preliminary categorization. Remember, this classification is cursory; so please forgive me if this method of communication is flawed and our exchange fails to harmonize. Your primary sensory instrumentation is very important to us.”

“Auditory cues have been received and will be deemed preliminary attempts at communication.”

“Sound generation has been recognized: vocal.”

“Frequency has been detected within the ranges of .01 to 300 Hertz.”

“These facts, coupled with your diurnal appearance and Nexus’ general solar-cyclic rotation, has narrowed the breadth of possibility to within acceptable parameters. Though error has been minimized, please realize that further investigation must be executed.”

“Your insistence is understood and appreciated, but please refrain from menu selections at this time.”

“Continued identification is critical to ensure a healthy exchange. Our services are tailored to over a billion forms of intelligence. Your mold fits a proportionate amount that inaccuracies pose theoretical bodily hazards.”

“Your continuous insistence will be viewed as an interest in the subject, but please refrain from menu selections at this time.”

“Based on deep spectrum scans, listening posts, habitation placement of this kiosk, and many other factors, your species has been narrowed to within 17 million possibilities. We hope that you are proud of this estimate.”

“Your continuous insistence will be viewed as an interest in the subject, but please refrain from menu selections at this time.”

“Activities that advance our interactions will always narrow probability and adequate identification will be achieved. Presently, the overlay is witling. Your continued patience is highly valued, but please act naturally if this interferes with specific species traits.”

“Based on numerical odds, it is likely that you are some form of arachnoid. This is far from a probabilistic mathematical certainty, however.”

“We’re sorry. Your continuous insistence cannot be viewed as an affirmation of arachnoid heritage. Further investigation must be executed. If it is determined that arachnoid heritage is sufficiently likely, continuation will be assumed.”

“Your inability to process this kiosk’s requests has been deemed a breakdown in communication. Recalculating.”

“We are aware that you possess a deoxyribonucleic acid molecular chain based on bioscans of liquids left on the menu selection applicators. Please understand that we can only narrow your phylum so far: Gene forgers and spectral projections have been known to skew results that lack enhanced corroboration.”

“Prior reading results merging with updated genetic data.”

“Species likelihood down to 5 million. Matches witling. Arachnoid heritage is still chiefly likely. You may have been right all along.”

“Your attention please. It appears you may be shedding integuments. Please find a way to calm yourself, as this is likely a sign of great stress or possible fatal injury. We will speedily ascertain your current level of peril.”

“It seems your integuments are attached to neither blood vessels nor active nerve endings. You are in no danger of shock-death. Luckily, we’ve narrowed the parameters to substantive levels. It is possible that you are what you say you are, but it is now more likely that you are a functional chordate.”

“It isn’t unheard of for some spider species having spinal nerve cords. Protraction on this hypothesis will now be assumed.”

“Please click your mandibles, as vocal communication has been your chief means of contact thus far.”


“Please expel air through your primary tagma segment’s tracheal system.”

“Curious, this expulsion is not situated in your abdomen. It isn’t unheard of some spider species accumulating vocal folds near or within their chelicera. Though this is unlikely, arachnoid heritage is still viable.”

“Please ‘speak’ in a way that is normal for your species.”

“Calculating. Recalculating!”

“It appears you are indeed a functional chordate. Please expel a vowel sound.”

“That will suffice. Please expel a consonant sound.”

“Very good.”

“Congratulations. It has been estimated that you are cognitively sentient.”

“You appear to be struggling. It is highly likely that you are a member of a gregarious species. Perhaps you should commune with a member who has used this kiosk on a previous occasion.”

“You have been operating the menu selection that links to chemical absorption. Tied to your most prominent legacy-type, it is likely that you are fascinated with: catabolism or, digestion. Do you require any kind of physical sustenance?”

“Please accept this protein supplement. It is mathematically certain to boost the energy reserves of your species-type. Analysis has observed that you control suitable means to break down this supplement, and heartily enjoy the process.”

“Warning: the prior insistence with which you have been attempting to select this application suggests that you may be suffering from extremely low subsistence levels. If you are in danger of starvation, please select this option from the menu once more.”

“Thank you. Here is another increment, based on your body proportions.”

“If you require any sort of medical or social courtesies, I can summon the proper accommodations for your disposal.”

“No? I see you are satisfactorily capable of specialized, powered locomotion.”

“I hope that this interaction has proven satisfactory. This Cognition Interface Kiosk has now been tailored by your collaboration. Well done! It has been an honor to partake in your socio-physical countenance.”

“Remember that intelligence connects us all.”

“And once again, welcome to Nexus.”

The earthling gathers up the offerings bestowed

By the yammering structure above

Which falters and dims

Ready for a century of rest if need be

When satisfied, she flushes her obsidian plumage fully

Extending, opening, clattering against ancient

Stone cold talons, brushing noisily, then

She drifts away

A gravelly call echoes back

A means of communication?

Why Spec is Absurd and You Should Embrace It

Perhaps I should suffix that title: If You’re A Weak Little Pissant Like Me

Welcome back to Outwardbounder in a bran’ new rotation! Revolution? You know, that circuloid motion this planet makes through its gravity well? The trip around the host star that has been arbitrarily labeled by its inhabitants? Twenty-Thirteen!

We made it past Twelve and the ball keeps on turning. Glad to see you all.

Outward’s outward journey continues:



Around these parts, the term ‘realism’ can be readily underappreciated. I get that. When hosting a speculative fiction blog, I constantly find myself trying to rationalize the intricacies of that pie up there in the sky.

But hey: it’s that time again. We’re long overdue. Time to break into the New Year with a dazzling display of pretentiousness. But not too much. I’m not bombastic. Just a bit tedious. Outwardbounder 2013’ll start out a little conservatively, if I can help it. I’ll take it easy with this post.

Try to elucidate on that realism.

Awkward justification time!

Here’s where I’m going with this–

Imagination can be a messy business. It’s a real balancing act. It all depends on your end goal. Satire is fun, but easy. (In SF or pure speculative fiction, it’s simpler to laugh at the green Martian than to learn how its vascular system works) I use humor all the time; whenever I feel like I’m sounding too much like a lunatic –or when I’m attempting to hide the fact that I know fuck-all about the topic. I lay it on heavy. But realism… that’s another kind of beast.

A lot of corn isn't always a bad thing.

A lot of corn isn’t always a bad thing.

Science Fiction conveys with it a tough crowd. A bunch of rabid piranhas who would tear me apart if they new I needed to use spell check to spell piranhas just now. You gotta push the envelope, or you’re as good as gone. As bad as B-movie notoriety or pulp fiction. (The genre, not the movie. Quentin is all kinds of great.)

It’s an arena of ideas, and there are many ancient gods that came before. There’s a long history of genius SF authors, all of them smarter than you’ll ever hope to be. They’ve already snapped up the juicy entrails of the speculative carcass, and all you’re left with is the refuse.

How can you hope to find your voice? Will your message be forever drowned out? Are you worth listening to? Even more importantly—are you worth taking seriously?

I’m familiar with how genuinely painful it is for your blood, sweat, and tears to be sadistically torn to shreds. If anything, there’s something particularly gruesome about someone labeling your work as trite, clichéd and unbelievable. That derisive snort they make as they toss your WIP aside cuts finer than a knife.

My shit is… implausible? That, I can stomach; but if it’s enough to break a reader out of my story entirely, I know something is seriously wrong. That’s where the coatings come in.

You can do one of three things: You can salvage your draft by converting it wholesale into a satire, or focus more adeptly at reality 101. The third one (which I’m not really focusing on here) is to just embrace your inner sadist and welcome ‘the pulp’ with open arms. Nuttin wrong with that route either.

My argument isn’t that “humorizing” your science fiction is a copout. Read Douglas Adams. My stance is that making a genuine push to “make that shit more believable” is much more challenging, and in the end, just as rewarding. Harden up that flabby fiction and rediscover the depth that was there all along.

SF is a tough racket to break in, full stop. Here there be pitfalls; and in such a variety, your head will spin.

Take the ‘predicting the future’ trope. That’s almost what SF is all about. There’s so many ways you can slip up. Overlook something here or misjudge something there. You can also completely ignore shit. *cough* pulp! *cough*

The fun thing about predicting the future? Your stuff ages quicker than a hopped up mayfly. There’s nothing quite like seeing the word ‘obsolete’ solidify over your front page in real time.

The answer? Be like me and focus on the tropes that the naked eye just ain’t patient enough to stick around for. Evolution! Stick your story world in a far off point in the future. Alien Galaxies! Stick your story world on a far off point in the galactic horizon. Alternate realities! Prove sentient toucans from another universe wrong, jackass!

Aliens, alt. worlds and evolution are the bread and butter of my speculative forays. They’re also delicious flavors in any spec fiction goulash. But I have to be honest…

Impatience and carelessness can undo those stories just as quick.

You can also do everything right. Take your time, focus on your craft. Read up on what jive your peers are hip to these days. You can bring a truly novel approach to your subject and ‘still’ be ridiculed, scoffed, and mocked. Just ask Dougal Dixon. I’ve never seen anyone play with a line so razor-thin.

When the man’s on, he’s on fire. He’s also prime for the voracious internet meme hoards.

Leech men from a distant future! Personally, I love this, but I can see why it makes the rounds o' ridicule

Leech men from a distant future! Personally, I love this, but I can see why it makes the rounds o’ ridicule


There will always be stumbles on your marathon to publication or acceptance. We can use all the defensive mechanisms in the book, but we still have to get our shit out there and seen by the readership. And they will laugh. The healthy majority of them will be those damned ‘derisive snort-ers’. Most people won’t like your shit.

But you aren’t writing for them. You’ll find your niche. You’ll find your crowd. Everything has a following.

Let the others laugh. You’re doing what you love.

And us readers are better off for it.

Trilobite: Words on Wednesdays

Okay. Yes. I’m aware that I’m posting this on Thursday. I blame it on my closing shift — bloody day jobs. This week at The Write Practice I took a stab at some Spec Poetry.



  1. any of numerous extinct Paleozoic marine arthropods (group Trilobita) having the segments of the body divided by furrows on the dorsal surface into three lobes

Reverb shakes the water column;

a cascade of pressure reception, too close.

Straining water flexes weakened cuticle.

A trilobite hunkers in, rolling, enrolling;

tumbling away, just in time.

Compound eyes tac an escape.

Hungry ones roll into view;

flaps churn along a sinuous body.

A wave, juddering trilobite-ian senses.

Down and down;

a fragile underside limb tongues between dorsal sutures.

A gill tasting, breathing.

Guzzling to fuel greedy instinct.

Clamps closed again, not swimming;




A trilobite relies on a flicker’s reaction.

A trilobite trusts the appraisal of intuition.

There is no time for hope;

but if he did, the trilobite would certainly cheer

for stiffened spines –

When Opabinia scuttles close for another pass.

Why Bug-Eyed, Furry Neanderthals are Stupid

Sometimes it's easy to forget what came before.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget what came before.

I’m late on this scene, but I don’t care:

Being a blogger – and to a greater extent; human being – that constantly emphasizes strange and preposterous things, you’d think I’d be pretty accepting of harebrained theories. I’ll readily admit to the left-field ideas I throw out in my free time.

I should be the last person to tell you that, well… maybe speculation can get a little out of control.

Maybe it’s this close affiliation with spec fiction that leaves me so protective of the subject; but when I heard about a certain “hypothesis”, I couldn’t help but get a little worked up.

It goes like this. A gentleman by the name of Danny Vendramini came up with this idea that ‘radically alters our perception of our closest hominid relatives.’ Immediately, I’m fully aboard with the idea. This is the crap I live for. Physical Anthropology! Let’s come at this puppy sideways!

However, I was thusly, and rather rudely thrown from the bandwagon. You can view his website, Them and Us here and immediately see why. Just one click in and my blood pressure did things god never intended it to do.

Danny posits some fairly (to put it mildly) outlandish interpretations about Neanderthal evolution, physiology and behavior, while throwing caution to the wind and completely disregarding scientific facts built up by paleontologists and anthropologists since science began compiling them in 1856.

All this from a man with no formal scientific training; from what I could glean on his site. Other than being an ‘armchair researcher”, Mr. Vendramini claims to be a member of the Independent Scholars Association of Australia Incorporated.

Well hey! I’ve been doing the same kind of stuff all my life. Sure, I never signed up for any fancy associations, but I’ve done plenty of layman-level reading on the subject of hominid evolution! I collect replica hominid skulls too!

Anthropological street cred? I got that.

Anthropological street cred? I got that.

I’ve got as much credentials to tackle the subject as he does. As much Wikipedia “hangin’ ten” time. I can also claim to have “studied” Neanderthals for longer than Mr. Vendramini’s own “ten years.”

So when I finally viewed the youtube video featuring his theory, I felt compelled to stand up for the science-buffs, speculators and average-joe-anthropologists of the world. Someone has to show those real scientists that all of their hard work isn’t totally in vain. Most of us actually listen to what you guys have to say.

Without further ado; here’s my take on the credulous ideas put forward in Danny Vendramini’s video. As it stands, I’m not particularly impressed to read his book. The flag is a little too red for my tastes.

Again. This is a review of the man’s video linked above.

Right off the bat: We have Danny asserting that “There is no sound archeological evidence that Neanderthals looked human,” and “soft tissues aren’t preserved in the fossil record.”

So far so good.

He then firmly readies his foot and his mouth by proposing to use Archeological, Genetic, and Foresic Evidence! to help prove his theories.

Anthropomorphism is tarried out to explain why all modern interpretations of Neanderthals feature “human-looking” and “shaven-faced” reconstructions. I find it funny that he himself describes anthropomorphism as “Humans attributing human characteristics on animals” when Neanderthals are indeed placed within the genus homo: ergo, human. But that’s beside the point.

Mr. Lok asks, "Why so stingy with Armani, bro?"

Mr. Lok asks, “Why so stingy with Armani, bro?”

This is when we reach the first of the video’s blatant misdirections. Vendramini claims that Neanderthal eyes “were in a different position in their skulls compared to humans.” As persuasive as his ‘reassembled George Clooney’ argument tries to be… Neanderthals most certainly didn’t have their eye sockets located in the middle of their foreheads.

Neanderthal skulls were shaped completely differently from their h. sapiens counterparts. They didn’t have chins for one. The crown of the skull was also much less pronounced. The bulk of the brain was situated in a much more horizontal plane when compared to the more vertical sapiens arrangement.

Prognathous jaws also stretched out the face, increasing its comparative size to sapiens. Neanderthals were much more robust. Less neotenized than our monkey-baby faced selves.

When Vendramini shows his side by side comparisons: top of head to bottom jaw, he fails to take these characteristic differences of the skulls into account.

Covert distortions like this are common throughout the entire video. I caught a point where the articulated skeletons of neanderthalensis and sapiens were shown shoulder-to-shoulder; Neanderthals depicted as the larger of the pair.

They weren’t. I always thought that short and stocky Neanderthals were common knowledge. Has ignorance crept up on me again?

Next we branch off into all out falsities. If I weren’t so nice, I’d call them straight up lies.

Vendramini proceeds to describe the particulars of sapiens/neanderthalensis evolution. He claims that the two hominids diverged and evolved in total isolation over the course of “over half a million years.” Fact check time. If you grab any book on the subject, you will learn that it is currently thought that anatomically modern humans and Neanderthals branched off from an ancestral form of homind, probably homo heidelbergensis. Neanderthals diverged from a population 300,000 years ago in Europe while sapiens evolved from a group that had remained in Africa some 200,000 years ago.

Doesn't this scream out scientific integrity?

Doesn’t this scream out scientific integrity?

That’s 100,000 years. Kinda strengthens the idea of similarity a bit, don’t it? Vendramini’s whole argument on this point seems to hinge on the fact that Neanderthals were so far removed and in a ‘naturally inhospitable’ environment, that evolutionary change would have favored dissimilarity. I’m all for variation, but the science is clear on this point.

We’ll touch on this, as Vendramini comes back to this later.

Vendramini goes on to solidify the blindingly obvious by saying that “Neanderthals were members in the order of primates.”

His usage of the term here is vague. I’m certain he’s aware that modern humans are primates as well. I’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but it seems to me like he’s trying to steer the topic (not so gently I might add) into his Neanderthal’s similarity with apes.

But we’re categorically apes as well, so I’m not sure what he’s trying to prove here by saying Neanderthals would look like primates. This highlights an apparent disconnect that Vendramini has with the subject of human evolution. Either that, or he’s trying to play to the public’s misconception and ignorance of primate phylogenic diversity.

Then he states that humans no longer look like their “primate ancestors” because of completely unique ecological and environmental circumstances. He doesn’t elaborate. Thus, according to Vendramini, humans evolved non-apish hairless bodies within the last 500,000 years; the time of diversification which he stated earlier. If I have his hypothesis straight, of course.

This is all kinds of wrong. Hominid nakedness has been traced to long before.

Note: The Neanderthal skull fitting into the chimpanzee profile falls apart when you realize the spinal column is all outta-whack.

Next, he brings up his consultations with Arturo Balseiro: a freelance artist and obvious FX maestro. Balseiro has no apparent history of forensic reconstruction, and no background in the field of physical anthropology. But his works do look amazing. Moving on.

Do you really need to sensationalize this badass?

Do you really need to sensationalize this badass?

Environment: Ice Age!

So we’re back here again. Vendramini likes to describe the “frozen glacial wasteland” that was ice age Europe. He does so a few times, as it draws heavily into his ‘Neanderthals be fuzzy’ argument. It’s “the most inhospitable environment ever occupied by hominids” after all. The way he expounds would have you believe Europe was all but a popsicle back in those days. But let us stray back towards the facts.

The words Mr. Vendramini uses over and over is the colloquial term, Ice Age. However, the scientific term for an Ice Age is an extended period of Earth’s geologic time where sheets of ice cover much of the globe. What Vendramini is undoubtedly referring to in the video is the ‘last glacial period’. Also called a glaciation. The most recent period began some 110,000 years ago and ended 10,000 or so years ago. ‘Maximum glaciation’ or, the furthest reach of the “frozen wasteland” was achieved 22,000 years ago.

Ancestors of the Neanderthals probably arrived in Europe during an interglacial period around 300,000 years ago, between the 2nd and 3rd Pleistocene glaciations, working back. Early members of neanderthalensis were undoubtedly molded by the advancing and retreating glacial waves, but most of Neanderthal-country remained open, unlocked and untouched by glaciers.

But yes. Things did get pretty nippy.

The whole problem of body hair is kind of a non-issue. Vendramini’s assertion that “Well since all the European animals were furry, Neanderthals were too” comes across as lazy. This falls into the category of the thin eye-slits featured in his reconstruction. I’m sure the idea is, “So, like, nocturnal predators like cats got ‘em. Why not my super-thals?”

Having recently read All Yesterdays, I’ve been left me with an extremely high bar for speculative reaching. All Yesterdays did it right. What’s more, the book has supplied me with some fantastic ammunition against not-so-good attempts at guesswork. Namely a section where future-extinct iguanas are deduced to be furry because… “Like, all the other animals around were furry!”

Moral is, you can’t ignore phylogenic placement, no matter how awesome an iguana would be to comb.

Rapid fire time:

Neanderthals ate meat. Yes. A lot of it. But not exclusively. They also got cooked vegetables stuck in their teeth.

The rest of the video degenerates into a slew of hypotheses and proclamations that have no basis.

Cannibalism makes them monsters. Nevermind the Donner party was pioneered by human beings.

“Neanderthals were six times stronger than humans,” pulled out of thin air.

Theory of hunting at night, harkening back to ‘proof’ of large eyes that Vendramini made up earlier.

Maintains that raping and pillaging is the only explanation for Neanderthal genes in the modern human genome.

Vendramini’s only real ‘proof’ of any of this is legends and myths of monsters. A kind of ancestral neurosis passed down to us from those gory days of yore.

At this point I’d had enough. Strange when I think about how much I’d love to see a gorilla with weapons. I should really be in heaven, but instead I feel drained. There’s something ‘inventively sapping’ about the Them and Us hypothesis.


I like imagination. I can give a guy points for trying something new and interesting. He’s obviously put a lot of time into this project… though he’s obviously overlooked (ignored) a few (major) details. Shaking up the status quo is always healthy, but I kind of imagine a little bit of merit and artistic integrity should go along with your suppositions.

That’s why I came away from this with so much spite. The betrayal of it. The nerve of spouting lies unabashed.

I’ve always found that truth supplies the real depth of meaning and authenticity to works of fiction. In wildlife, biota, behavior – truth is stranger than fiction. There’s so much wonder to tap into in the natural world.

Just be honest with it.

The thin veneer of science is pretty wobbly on this one.

I mean, how serious can you take a mug like that?