Mesozoic Park

I was in bed with an agonizing toothache this weekend. Initially I thought I should wrap my head and mouth with a bandage as if it wereEngland circa 1843; but, since leeches were about the extent of medicinal technology in the Victorian era (in reality, they also had this tool called a “tooth key” that wrenched out molars), I ultimately decided to make an appointment with a modern dentist.

In the meantime I got to watch movies and eat chicken noodle soup (well, I’ve actually been eating cheese, graham crackers, and salami while mindlessly surfing Netflix). One of my all-time favorite flicks (apart from Raiders of the Lost Ark) is Steven Spielberg’s sacrosanct Jurassic Park.

This film is so incredible that I can look past the multimillion-year anachronism hurling Velociraptors and Tyrannosaurs backwards in time from the Cretaceous period. I can also turn a blind eye to the anomalous use of amphibian DNA to complete an extinct reptilian genome. (And for you computer types out there – yes, I can ignore the whole UNIX part at the end, too.)

However, if Spielberg plans to re-release this magnum opus of Mesozoic moving pictures with any shred of James Cameron-like perfectionism, he’d better consult with the paleoentomologists out there first – I would like to hear some historically accurate cricket mating calls this time.