Latest news with #Threshold
New Indian Express
a day ago
- Health
- New Indian Express
Waging a war on chemicals with an invisible army
SIDDIPET: Industrial agriculture's addiction to monocultures and pesticides has left farms sterile and ecosystems broken. However, in Pedda Masanpally village of Thogutta mandal, an invisible army of microbes is waging war against crop diseases. Led by agricultural officers, this eco-friendly battalion is rewriting the rules of farming, proving that soil health and pest control need not come from a chemical bottle. Speaking to TNIE, agricultural extension officer T Nagarjun says, 'We can enhance crop health by using pheromone traps, sticky traps and light traps to monitor pest populations and assess the Economic Threshold Level (ETL). These tools help identify pest build-up before the infestation causes significant yield loss. Nagarjun has been promoting the use of biocontrol agents and biofertilisers among farmers. Twenty such specimens have been displayed at the Rythu Vedhika, and field demonstrations are being carried out to showcase their benefits. Demonstrations were recently held at the field of Anil Reddy in Pedda Masanpally village of Thogutta mandal, focusing on tomato, chilli and brinjal crops. 'We replaced chemical fertilisers with biofertilisers: Azotobacter for nitrogen, phosphorus-solubilising bacteria for phosphorus, potash-solubilising bacteria for potassium and zinc-solubilising bacteria for zinc. These microbes naturally boost soil fertility and reduce dependence on synthetic inputs,' explains Nagarjun. To control plant diseases, microbial agents such as Trichoderma viride, Pseudomonas and Bacillus subtilis were used. These microbes possess antagonistic properties and suppress pathogens either through enzymatic action or antibiotic production, he adds. For managing sucking pests like thrips, whiteflies and jassids, biocontrol fungi such as Beauveria bassiana, Verticillium lecanii and Isaria were employed. To combat caterpillars, borers and leaf miners, the team used Metarhizium and Bacillus thuringiensis. 'We also introduced other biocontrol agents like Nomuraea and Bacillus subtilis, which strengthen the plant's immune system, making it more disease-resistant. This eco-friendly and sustainable approach helps reduce soil and water pollution, preserves beneficial organisms and improves long-term soil health,' mentions Nagarjun. He adds that the response from the farming community has been encouraging. 'These microbial solutions are emerging as viable alternatives to chemical pesticides and fertilisers.'
Hindustan Times
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Made for $65M, earned $120K, Hollywood's biggest box office bomb ended careers, was called 'worst movie of 21st century'
Imagine crowdfunding a film, hiring some of the biggest names in Hollywood, taking 10 years to make it, and then not even being able to finish it because you defaulted on some loans and the film was auctioned off. In the end, it makes only 0.2% of its investment back, ending up as Hollywood's biggest box office bomb. To add a cherry to this disgusting cake, critics still consider it one of the worst films ever made. In 2002, first-time director Lawrence Kasanoff announced an ambitious animated feature film called Foodfight! Top stars such as Charlie Sheen, Hilary Duff, and Eva Longoria were cast to do the voices for the protagonists, alongside well-known character artists Wayne Brady, Larry Miller, and Christopher Lloyd. Kasanoff had no experience in filmmaking, yet he came on board as director-producer. A $25 million joint investment in the project was made by Threshold, his company, and the Korean investment company Natural Image. The remainder was raised in crowdfunding efforts and secured through loans. But, the film ran into production delays right from the get-go. Kasanoff first claimed that hard drives containing unfinished assets were stolen. The film's crew denied that it ever happened. Then, the animation style was changed mid-production from Looney Tunes-esque 'squash and stretch' to stop motion. As production stretched on, many brands that had initially come on board as investors, including Cheetos and M&M's, backed out. The film missed two release deadlines in 2003 and 2005. Another distribution deal with Lionsgate in 2007 also failed. In 2011, the film was finally auctioned for $2.5 million after the makers defaulted on the loans they took for its production. StoryArk investors auctioned it to Fireman's Fund Insurance Company, which finished the film 'as inexpensively and quickly as possible'. It was released in a very limited manner in 2012 and then given for home media release. As a result, after spending 10 years and $65 million in production, Foodfight! earned just $120,000 at the box office. The 99.8% net loss is the highest in Hollywood history. The release only worsened the matters for Foodfight! When it was reviewed, critics found it abysmal. Mental Floss included it in its list of "10 Really Bad Movies that Define 'Bad Movies'". The Daily Telegraph described Foodfight! as "the worst animated children's film ever made". Collider went one step ahead and not only named it the worst fantasy movie of the 2010s, but the "absolute worst [movie] of the 21st century, without any real competition." In her review for Hollywood News, Kate Valentine called it "by far the crappiest piece of crap I have ever had the misfortune to watch". It has frequently found a place in several lists of the worst films ever made.
Spectator
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Spectator
A lovely album: Saint Leonard's The Golden Hour reviewed
Grade: A+ The kids with their synths and hip producers, dragging the 1980s back: I wish they would stop. It was, in the main, an awful decade for music, the bands trite yet portentous, the stupid burbling bass guitars, hubris-stricken vocals and tinny drums. The kids retread all the dross. Yet if you were actually around and sentient in that avaricious decade, as was Saint Leonard, you could find a certain chill beauty in hidden corners. Not the New Romantics, not Japan, not SAW. Just small niches here and there of inventiveness and clever pop. Saint Leonard – Kieran Leonard to his mum – draws down all that was good about the cool side of the early 1980s: the motorik beats, the synths that were only three steps above a theremin, the primitive stuttered drums appropriated from Germany. You can find Cabaret Voltaire, Berlin-era Bowie and very early Ultravox within here. And the later part of the decade? David Lynch and Angelo Badalamenti's lush, minimalist, collaboration with Julee Cruise. Maybe a little debauched Gina X. The good stuff, in other words. It helps, of course, that Saint Leonard can write a tune – both 'Martini Symphony' and 'Threshold' are simply great pop songs – but also has the confidence in his melodies to allow room for them to breathe, such as the Sprechgesang on the beautiful 'The Florist'. This is a lovely album, but it is too clever, too sincere, too knowing in its musical pedigree to grab the attention of the radio programmers. Which is, I think, a great shame. Because bad though the 1980s were for music, they were always better than naive retreads of Depeche bloody Mode and the scarifying Kylie.
The Journal
07-05-2025
- Politics
- The Journal
Bill that would see deposits kept by third party rather than landlord brought to Leinster House
A HOUSING CHARITY has brought a bill to Leinster House that would see deposits lodged with an independent third party rather than the landlord. The bill, entitled the Deposit Protection Scheme Bill (DPS Bill), would establish a third-party custodial model at no extra cost to tenants or landlords that would keep the deposit for the duration of a tenant's occupation of a property. Once the tenancy is over, the deposit would be returned to the tenant – unless the landlord has claimed evidenced expenses. National housing charity Threshold presented a draft bill for the establishment of a DPS to TDs and Senators in Leinster House today. Advertisement Threshold says that the campaign to bring this forward has been widely supported. Latest Residential Tenancies Board (RTB) data shows that 94% of deposit retention disputes in 2021 showed the landlord acting unlawfully. More renters lodged RTB disputes seeking the return of their deposit in 2024 than those disputing notices of termination. The campaign is being run in collaboration with a number of student unions. The charity collected over 1,000 signatures supporting the scheme from college campuses during Renters' Rights days. Threshold's National Advocacy Manager Ann-Marie O'Reilly said that the scheme, which is already in place in a number of other countries, such as the UK, would 'remove stress and uncertainty for renters and landlords alike'. Vice President for Campaigns at the Union of Students Ireland (USI), Nathan Murphy, said that students are among the most vulnerable renters as it is often their first time renting. He said that every year students have large sums of money in deposits withheld by landlords and management companies, and that the DPS Bill would bring 'much needed protection' for student renters. Readers like you are keeping these stories free for everyone... A mix of advertising and supporting contributions helps keep paywalls away from valuable information like this article. Over 5,000 readers like you have already stepped up and support us with a monthly payment or a once-off donation. Learn More Support The Journal
The Guardian
29-03-2025
- Science
- The Guardian
Nature's secret soundscape: listen with me to the world's quietest creatures
It's a spring day in northern Sweden, just 100km (62 miles) below the Arctic Circle. I tuck my sound gear into my backpack, clip into my cross-country skis and glide out on to a frozen lake, looking for a small ice-fishing hole. It's a quiet day, with no snowmobiles or other skiers about. Conditions are perfect for the fishing I hope to do: not for dinner, but for sounds. I find the hole, kneel next to it and slowly feed a hydrophone – a waterproof microphone attached to a long cable – down into the slushy water. Then I press record, cover up my gear and ski away. I'll be back in a while to see what, if anything, felt like talking. We are living through a quiet revolution – a renaissance of listening to the more-than-human world. Scientists around the globe are increasingly setting up audio recorders in wild places and letting them run, and using the sounds they collect to learn new things about different habitats or species. It's called 'passive acoustic monitoring', and it's been booming over the last decade, as the cost of high-quality recording equipment has plummeted while data storage capacity has rapidly increased. The process of decoding that data is accelerating quickly too, with help from artificial intelligence. As a result, scientists have been collecting more sounds from more places than ever before, and everywhere they listen, they discover there's more to hear. But at the same time, a counter-revolution is also underway. Humans have become very loud. After millennia of careful attunement to the life around us, many of us now move through our days, or even our entire lives, hearing almost nothing but the sounds of just one species: our own. If life on Earth were a dinner party, we would be the obnoxious guest who talks over everyone. It's happening everywhere, but our sonic impact is especially pronounced underwater – according to one study, global shipping noise is doubling every 11 years, causing measurable damage to dolphins, whales and other creatures. Noise pollution has negative effects on human health too – not only physically, but mentally. It doesn't feel good to feed exclusively on our own human dramas, and yet when those stories feel extra chaotic and scary, it's even harder to turn away from them and take in the voices of our planet-mates. For the last two years, I've been exploring the crossroads of these two opposing trends for my podcast, Threshold. I've talked to dozens of people who are devoting their lives to listening to creatures like dolphins, elephants and other famously soniferous beasts. But I've also been introduced to some of our planet's less-listened-to and perhaps harder-to-love beings, three of which I profile here. Through them, I've begun to wake up to how many conversations are happening around me all the time that I can't hear, or failed to pay attention to. Like between fish, for instance. Yes, fish talk. In fact, they're surprisingly chatty. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ 'Light doesn't travel that far underwater, even in great conditions. It's dark. You need a way to be able to talk to each other and work out where you are. And sound travels very well in water,' says Miles Parsons, an underwater acoustics researcher at the Australian Institute of Marine Sciences. As a result, 'virtually all animals underwater, whether it's freshwater, brackish or marine, use sound as their main sensory modality'. Parsons and other scientists have recorded a wide range of fish sounds, which they give fun names like sneaks, unks, snorts and boops. 'There are an amazing variety of different sounds that are absolutely fantastic,' he says. To make these sorts of sounds, fish contract air-filled sacs in their bodies called 'swim bladders'. They do this individually and in choruses, which can swell to hundreds of members that together produce an ear-splitting amount of sound. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ The fact that fish make sounds is well known among people who depend on them for subsistence. Their calls were documented by Aristotle and Darwin, and recorded underwater as far back as the 1940s. But most of the details of the acoustic lives of fish are still shrouded in mystery. Fish acousticians collect sounds all the time that they can't yet identify, like this one, labeled 'unknown kwa' at the FishSounds digital library. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ Parsons estimates there are 35,000 species of fish on Earth – we don't yet have an exact count – but only about 1,200 have been studied to find out whether or not they produce sound. That means there are a whole lot of fishy conversations happening in our oceans, lakes and rivers that we've never heard, or can't identify. So why bother trying to learn? Other than the sheer delight of these sounds, why go to the trouble of recording them? Why listen to fish? The most obvious answer is that we need them. Without fish, food webs would collapse, and billions of people would go hungry. Tuning in to the sounds of fish is one way of keeping track of how many there are, where they live, and whether their populations are growing or shrinking. But fish can also serve as emissaries from parts of the planet that are hard for us to access – turbulent rivers, ice-covered lakes, mysterious deep-sea realms. 'So much of the ocean is still unexplored,' says Lauren Hawkins, a researcher at Curtin University in Perth, Australia. 'We have to find ways to monitor the health of our marine environments, and fish are very good indicators for that.' Hawkins says fish sounds can be used to infer important information about changes in water temperature, currents, salinity, pollution and more. They can also help researchers assess whether conservation projects are actually working. 'Using acoustics is a way of looking at measuring the changes that are happening. And the more tools we have, the better.' But it all begins with identifying who's talking. Or unk-ing. Or … splooshing? That's the best word I can come up with to describe this sound: Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ This is the voice of a very cold Swedish fish, most likely a grayling, Arctic char, perch or trout. While I was off skiing around that lake, it swam up to my hydrophone and introduced itself. It may not have the haunting allure of the cuckoo's call, or the ferocious power of a lion's roar, but when I listened back to my recording and heard this sound, I found myself unexpectedly moved. Suddenly that lake didn't just have some fish in it, it had this fish. One particular animal that had survived under the ice, all winter long. It was a moment of contact, not just with this creature, but with a whole world that in many ways feels alien to me, even though it's right there, just below the surface. I had a similar feeling of dropping into an alternate realm when I clipped a small microphone on to the stem of a plant in a park in Iowa City, Iowa, and heard this sound: Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ The sound was quite loud in my headphones, but when I pulled them off, I couldn't hear it all. I also couldn't see what was making it. Intrigued, I sent the recording to Rex Cocroft, a biologist at the University of Missouri, and he confirmed my suspicions: I had managed to capture the sounds of a small insect, likely some sort of leafhopper, communicating in a hidden world of sound called the vibroscape. Even more exciting, he thought the odds were good that no one had ever heard or recorded this sound before. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ That's because leafhoppers and their cousins, treehoppers, don't transmit their sounds through the air, like we do, or through water, like fish. These little creatures shake their abdomens, causing acoustic waves to move through their legs and out into the stems and leaves of plants. Other hoppers pick up on these vibrations with their legs, and often respond in kind. 'It's like they take a different transect through acoustic space and put together sound in ways that we never thought to do,' Cocroft says. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ These calls are not subtle at all – they are big, bold and sometimes even a little scary. But without the right kind of microphone, a person standing right next to two conversing treehoppers will not hear a thing. It's almost like they turn the plants, and their own bodies, into magical musical instruments that only they can hear. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ The key to tapping the lines of communication between treehoppers was Cocroft's curiosity, not technological wizardry. He was doing research for his PhD in animal communication when he decided to find out if treehoppers had anything to say. This was at Cornell University in the 1990s. 'I just walked out onto a meadow near where I lived,' he says. 'I had a cassette tape recorder and headphones.' He found a goldenrod plant with some treehoppers on it, leaned a sensitive microphone up against it, 'and immediately I heard these wonderful sounds I'd never heard before. Just this tiny insect, this beautiful song. And then I was hooked. I never looked back.' Before Cocroft started documenting their sounds, treehoppers had attracted quite a bit of attention for their ornate and sometimes downright whacky body shapes. The ones Cocroft studies the most, thorn bugs, look like rose thorns with legs. Others appear to have sand castles on their heads, 'or a little Starship Enterprise on their backs', he says. These minute rockstars of the insect world, pushing the boundaries of sound and fashion, live on every continent but Antarctica. If it happens to be warm outside where you are today, odds are good they're calling on some plants nearby. That means hundreds of millions of us probably walk right by treehoppers and leafhoppers every day, unaware of the messages they're sending to each other. But what about plants? What, if anything, are they doing with all of this acoustic information, coursing through their plant-y veins? In 2007, Cocroft stumbled upon this question in a casual conversation with another scientist, Heidi Appel. 'We both immediately thought, 'No, that's very far-fetched and unlikely,'' Cocroft says. The idea of plants being able to detect sound waves produced by insects – in a sense 'listen' to the vibroscape – just seemed too out there. But they decided to test the idea anyway, almost as a lark. I tell the full story of what happened next in this episode of Threshold, but (spoiler alert) what they discovered ended up kicking off a whole new era of plant bioacoustics. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ Talking fish. Bellowing insects. Listening plants. Again and again, organisms have evolved ways to use sound to help them survive. That includes us. 'I think for humans, language and cooperation are some of the features that really helped move us forward and helps us be successful,' says neuroscientist Alison Barker. I met Barker at the Max Planck Institute for Brain Research in Frankfurt, Germany, where she studies connections between cooperation and acoustic communication in naked mole rats – small mammals that spend their whole lives in underground colonies in east Africa. Naked mole rats are not moles, or rats, but they are mostly naked, other than the hundred or so highly sensitive hairs on their finger-sized bodies. And they are chatterboxes. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ 'I wish I knew what they were saying,' said Barker, as we stood over the colony in her lab, listening to them. She leads a team of researchers who are working on figuring that out. They've installed an array of microphones which allows them to eavesdrop on naked mole rat conversations, and they've cataloged more than 25 sound types, including the scream, the hiss and the toilet call. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ Barker carefully plucks one naked mole rat out of its burrow, cradling it gently while I point my microphone toward its mouth. There's no denying that this little creature has a face made for radio – it has tiny eyes, a pig-like snout and beaverish teeth. But when it calls, my heart melts. Its voice is sweetly beautiful and highly reminiscent of birdsong. This is the sound that Barker has researched the most, called the 'soft chirp'. Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ The soft chirp is the most common sound naked mole rats make, and Barker believes it contains information about individual identity and group membership. Naked mole rats are the longest-lived rodents in the world, with lifespans of 30 years or more, and their long list of seeming superpowers has been researched much more than their communication. They rarely develop cancer, they have a high tolerance for pain and low-oxygen environments, and they usually stay very healthy even into old age. They're also the only mammals known to live in a eusocial system, with a queen at the center, similar to how bees or ants live. The queen chooses a few males for her harem, and she's the only one who gives birth. All other members of the colony do the work of foraging for food, caring for the pups and fighting off intruders. But when Barker first encountered naked mole rats at a lab in Berlin, it was their voices, not their intriguing physiological adaptations, that captured her. 'It wasn't really love at first sight – although that's not to say that I don't think they're very adorable,' she said. 'It was more love at first sound. There was a brief moment of sensory disconnect, where you hear a sound and you think it should be coming from something else, and then you realize it's coming from this unusual-looking creature that you've never seen before. It was a real moment of wonderment. Both my brain and my heart were kind of screaming together: you have to study this.' I posed the same question to Barker that I pose to every other researcher I interviewed for this series. Why should we care about this creature, plant or habitat that you're so passionate about listening to? In this case, why listen to naked mole rats? Barker had several answers, including what these animals can teach us about the evolution of our own communication. But her last thought was perhaps the most powerful. 'Why not listen to the naked mole rats?' she asked. 'Why are we not listening to all the animals on the planet? Why are we not trying to understand what's happening in the world that we're a part of? We're part of a larger ecosystem. And I think in some ways we have a duty to engage with that.' Amy Martin is the founder and executive producer of Threshold, a Peabody award-winning documentary podcast. The latest season, Hark, is available now
