I've begun to think that if I hadn't have become a biochemist/biophysicist, I'd have probably tried my hand at parasitism. As an area of study, I mean.

For the last couple of days, in what little free time I have between catching four hour naps, I've been reading about [Insect-Pathogenic]fungi.
Being fungi, these are substantially different than the horsehair (or Gordian) worms that I've spoke about [previously]

These fungi predominately occur in the division Eumycota, in particular [Zygomycota].
It's important to note here that I really don't have a clue what I'm talking about, as this is way out of my area of expertise. If I'm grossly wrong, don't make fun of me, I'm just a poor biophysicst trying to make sense out of all this fungi taxa mess.

These fungi are facinating because of their proclivity towards killing insects. They actually colonize an arthropod and literally dissolve its organs from the inside out.

If you've ever seen a house fly sort of weakly crawling around on your window sill that doesn't respond to your presence, you're most likely observing a victim in its final throes. [Entomophthora Muscae] is one of the common attackers of flies (Diptera), and they generate some rather [spectacular] results. Somehow, the fungi "takes over" the behavior of its host and guides it to the highest point possible (so as to spread it's future spores over as wide an area as possible). The unlucky bug does so, and then is overcome by the proliferation of spores within it, and clutches to the surface in its death spasm. The exoskeleton literally bursts, releasing millions of highly infectious spores to the wind. Cool microphotographs, clearly displaying fungal lesions can be seen [here].

That's rather disturbing, if you ask me. However, cicadas often fall prey to an even more disgusting fungi, called Massospora cicadina. This fungi similarily replicates within it's hosts abdomen, but instead of killing it, allows its carrier to remain motile. Segments of the cicada's abdomen, now engorged with spores, will fall off and be dispersed as the cicada moves around.

[Clavicipitaceae] is another family of fungi that have an spectacular external appearance. (Multiple large fruting bodies erupting from insects is quite impressive.)

Nasty. Insects have it tough.

As bad as all of the previous material might have seemed, imagine getting brain surgery by wasp venom. For many cockroaches, just such a fate befalls them.
The [Ampulex Compressa] wasp delivers a perfectly guided sting to a cockroach's brain, effectively removing it's "flee" instinct. The wasp then takes hold of one of the roach's antennae, and guides it into it's den. There, the was lays a single egg on its victim, from which a larvae will hatch and burrow into the cockroach, devouring it from the inside out. The mature wasp will eventually burst from its chitinous cage and seek more prey.



The researcher who seems to be at the forefront of this field is Prof. Frederic Libersat, of the Life Sciences department at Ben Gurion University in Israel. He has done [extensive] research into the neuroanatomy of roaches and crabs, as well as Ampulex compressa.
What is evidently happening is that the wasp is injecting into select regions of its prey's brain some sort of protein. This protein forms ion channels that effectively short-circuit the neurons in that area. In short, they're forming a zombie. The first part of the attack is the precisely oriented thrust of the wasp's stinger into the cockroach's head:



This must be no small feat, given the relative size of the roach to the wasp. It'd be like trying to do brain surgery on a bucking bull at a rodeo.

The second part of the equation is the ion-channel forming proteins. As any good venomologist (?) knows (and I am definitely not one), just about any venom is a complex mix of various compounds. In a 2004 paper, Libersat's lab did an exhaustive investigation of the channel's effect upon membrane polarizability. Not only were the channels very effective at conducting (and therefore destroying) potential across the membranes, they were also quite resistant to proteolysis. (Gincel D, Haspel G and Libersat F. Channel forming activity in the venom of the cockroach-hunting wasp, Ampulex compressa Toxicon 43:721. 727) DOI: [10.1016/j.toxicon.2004.03.004].

The reason this toxin is so potent lies in the mechanism in how a cockroaches (or your) neurons work. Neurons are cells that act as wires by propogating a charge differential (a potential) down their length. This is done by maintaining certain ions (either positively or negatively charged) separate from each other. If you have more postive ions on one side of a membrane than the other, that side will be postively charged. By making a hole in that membrane (as per a toxin channel), the ions are allowed to freely move from one side to another, destroying the concentration gradient. This results in the neuronic equivalent of a shorted wire.

Rather facinating, huh?

In yet another example of neat parasites, you just have to see to believe Leucochloridium paradoxum, a flatworm fluke. Snails are only one step in this creature's foodchain (much like many flukes), as birds make up the other host organism.
What makes Leucochloridium paradoxum so weird is what it does to the snail. It directs the snail to crawl up as high as possible, and then engorges the snail's antennae, as well as generating a pulsing pattern. (You have to see it to believe it, and there's a nice animation [here]).
The pulsating, engorged antenna attract birds to the highly-perched snail, where the infected primary (?) host is eaten, and the lifecycle can continue inside the bird. The antenna look suprisingly like maggots, as can be clearly seen in two photographs on [this page].

Gross.

One of the comments on the initial page I linked to point out the problems that many creationists have with parasitism in general. Parasites (even if they are attacking houseflies) aren't very pretty, and one has to wonder why God would have ever made such organisms.
Although I will in no way posit that I understand (or even grasp) the issue, I'd like to throw several points out here for you to think about.
Although viruses aren't parasites, per se, bacterial phages serve a vital role in keeping bacteria in check. As [Ry Young], a famous virologist here at TAMU likes to say, every bacteria has (statistically) one of two fates: it either divides, or it is lysed by viral action. Were it not for viruses, we'd be literally crawling with bacteria.

Much in the same way, parasites keep many insects and higher-order organisms in check. It's merely another sort of predation. Were it not for bats, mosquitoes could potentially reach epidemic levels in many areas. Lions in africa cull wildebeest and zebra populations. Ebola or bird flu has the potential to take out humans by the truckload. Why do we consider only diseases that affect mankind as "bad"?

I'm going to stop just short of saying that God made viruses and parasites. Truth is, I don't know. Is it possible that Ampulex Compressa originally dined on plants? I think that's an unconcionably large step, because if that's the case, then where did it get the impressively effective neurotoxin? These are tough questions.
I think it's even more complex than that, however. I believe that eventually, man will be able to generate a virus from scratch. Given the fact that they're the simplest replicating "organism" (and I'm excluding [prions] here, for the sake of argument), it seems that it'd be an attainable goal, eventually.
If man is able to make an infectious virus, then why couldn't Satan also generate such a thing? I don't think many christians today will try and argue that Satan is somehow dumber than human scientists.

It doesn't help the matter that the Bible's creation story leaves a little detail to be desired, at least to my biotechnical eyes.
The following passage futher confuses things:


That seems rather clear. There isn't much wiggle room for parasitism there. I even checked on what the writer might have meant by "all the creatures that move on the ground", in case this might not have included insects, or some lower creatures. None such luck:


Although I'm no Hebrew scholar, I'm willing to bet that "swarm" is usually only used in reference to creatures I'll lump together as "bugs". That means that just about everything that moves (and isn't a "green plant") was pretty much off limits, at least as far as diet was concerned. A conundrum indeed.

You'd be dissappointed if you think the account of Adam and Eve's fall will shed light on the matter:

Notice that it says "Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals!". At least to me, this would imply a certain amount of cursedness (?) being applied to the other creatures as well. Unfortunately, the wording simply isn't clear enough to make any definitive judgement.

Furthermore, God seems to be a stickler for keeping records on all of his creation:

What's all of this "accounting" buisness? Something to research further, definitely.

Although I hate to say it, I don't think there is enough information here for a scientist to really explain the current state of things. Also, although I'd like to take as literal an interpretation as possible with this account, maybe it's like trying to read Revelation, where nothing makes sense. Maybe God requires scientists such as myself to simply take this account on faith, and just let him explain it all when we meet him.


I know I'm going to have a lot of questions.