What’s in a name? Venoms vs. Poisons | Toxinology 101

Scientists refer to the study of biological toxins as toxinology (not to be confused with toxicology, with a C—as I explain below). From bacterial toxins like anthrax to the deadliest snake venoms, toxinology examines the chemical warfare between animals, plants, fungi and bacteria. This is the first in a new series I call Toxinology 101, where I explain and explore the fundamentals of toxin science to reveal the unusual, often unfamiliar, and unnerving world created by our planet’s most notorious biochemists.

Photo via Shutterstock
Photo via Shutterstock

“Point blank,” my friend, a commander in the US Navy, said firmly, when I asked what misused word or phrase really gets under his skin. “Definitely point blank.”

I asked why, and as he explained, I realized I’d been using the phrase wrong, too. To people familiar with firearms, hearing someone call an up-close gun shot “point blank” is like dragging nails on a chalkboard because that’s not what it means at all. Point blank (which may come from the French phrase pointé à blanc, referring to an arrow being aimed at a white spot at the center of a target) has nothing to do with close proximity to the shooter. Rather, point blank range is the distance at which a weapon aimed at a target succeeds in hitting it—where point of aim (e.g. the middle of the crosshairs) is the same as point of impact.

Bullets don’t travel in a straight line; from the moment they leave the gun, they are pulled by gravity. The further away your target is, the more you have to adjust for the arc of the bullet with the angle of the barrel of the gun. But the aiming line of sight is a straight line; point blank is where the bullet’s path and the line of sight cross. Adjustable sights allow you to aim your shot for a desired distance; thus, for long-range rifles, “point blank” could be set to 100, 200, or even 300+ yards away. Meanwhile, many handguns have fixed sights, so their point blank range is limited to whatever distance the gun is is zeroed to. Point blank range for such guns can be somewhat close—within fifty feet—but even that is much further than what most people think of as “point blank.” In fact, if a gun is literally pressed against the victim, then the point in the middle of the sights (which are usually on top of the barrel) isn’t where the bullet ends up—it’s off by the width of the barrel at least—so that isn’t point blank range. Different munitions have different maximum point blank ranges, depending on the weapon’s inherent ballistic properties, the aiming device used, and the type of bullet used.

A quick diagram showing how “point blank” can be somewhat close or hundreds of yards away.

It’s no wonder, then, that every time my friend hears someone was shot “point blank” (meaning gun to the head, or within a few feet), he gets a little prickly. Of course, there are words and phrases like “point blank” for every profession. Doesn’t matter if you’re an accountant, mechanic, or CEO, your job requires an understanding of the lingo of your field, and it can be frustrating when words with specific, important meanings are flung about incorrectly by everyone else.

For me, the ‘nails on chalkboard’ feeling comes whenever I hear people talk about their everday exposure to “toxins” or “poisonous” snakes. Though they’re often used interchangeably, the words toxin, venom, and poison (and their corresponding adjectives toxic, venomous, and poisonous) have very distinct meanings to toxinologists. So, it’s only fitting to kick off my Toxinology 101 series by explaining the differences between them and when it’s appropriate to use each of these terms. Continue reading “What’s in a name? Venoms vs. Poisons | Toxinology 101”

Have yourself a toxic berry Christmas

Photo by Heather Cowper
Photo by Heather Cowper

It’s evening on Christmas Eve, and it’s cold. The early sunset was hours ago, and the insulating clouds have vanished, leaving every surface frozen and glittering like the inside of a geode wherever the light from the street lamps touch. A couple braces as they leave their car and step out into the winter air, their ears filled with the sound of the snow creaking and crunching beneath each fall of their boots, each breath precipitating into thin, gray tendrils that slide past their chilled cheeks. They reach the door of their destination; a home glowing and warm, with muffled laughter and the clatter of silverware spilling out into the dry, stratospheric cold of the street. One of them places a round of knocks below a voluminous wreath of holly, its scarlet berries already wearing a film of frost. The door opens abruptly, and after a series of joyous embraces of ugly-sweatered chests, the couple presents their gift of wine and pie. The magnetic pull of heat, smiles, and carbohydrates draws them inside for the night. As they approach the nexus of the living room, they slowly push through a cavalcade of family members, faces flush with inebriation and the radiative heat of a wood-fired stove. One of them finally reaches a table, liberally adorned with sweets and beverages. They pour two mugs of eggnog, taking care to not catch fire on the centerpiece, a gloriously over-done amalgamation of poinsettias, Christmas roses, and candles. The couple rejoins away from the social huddle of guffaws and crosstalk. They take a swig of their viscous treat, and one of them notes the mistletoe pinned on the beam above them. With a wink and smile, they participate in an age-old tradition, and their lips meet.

Not once do they stop to ponder the noxious notoriety of every plant they’ve come across. From the holly on the door to the mistletoe above their heads, they are surrounded by species with toxic reputations. How did these potential poisons come to be symbolic of a holiday celebrating life and good health? Well, that’s a good story… Continue reading “Have yourself a toxic berry Christmas”

Ask Professor Willowcox: Are Poison-type Pokémon Really “Poisonous”?

I was born in 1985, which is a bit of an awkward year, culturally. I’m technically a millennial, but I was a bit too old for most of the fads that swept through the millennial generation. I never owned a Bratz doll. I missed the brief yo-yo boom. And I never played Pokémon, in game or card form. That’s not to say I was too cool for that sort of thing as a kid; I was a total geek. Heck, I had a dragon deck before the Onslaught block made tribal decks cool (that would be Magic the Gathering, for those who have no idea what I’m talking about)—I just wasn’t quite the right age at the right time to be hit by the Pokémon craze. I had never tried to catch a Pokémon until last week, when my boyfriend and roommate convinced me to try Pokémon Go. It’s… addicting.

A few days later, I was already one of “those” people, glued to my phone as I paced up and down Kohou street. THERE! I stopped abruptly as I engaged a Tentacool that appeared on my screen. My eyes narrowed as I gently flicked my Pokéball at the cp179 Tentacool perched awkwardly on the hood of a parked car. After a few rattles, the red and white ball became still, emitting the “Gotcha!” stars, and I did a slightly embarrassing victory dance (my friend once dubbed it my “T. rex dance” because of my jilted arm movements). As a box jelly scientist, I had been keeping a keen eye out for these jellyfish Pokémon for days, but I had only seen them off in the distance, some three footsteps away. Frustrated, I finally had decided to go hunting near a local canal on my way back home from running errands, hoping I would find these water Pokémon near, you know, water—a tactic that paid off. My goofy grin quickly changed, however, when I was awarded a metal for catching my 10th “Poison-type” Pokémon. “Poison!” I actually exclaimed aloud. “Jellies are venomous!

Poison, Niantic? Not tenta-cool.
Poison, Nintendo? Not tenta-cool.

Continue reading “Ask Professor Willowcox: Are Poison-type Pokémon Really “Poisonous”?”