Dweller
Dweller ->->->-> https://urlgoal.com/2tlwkT
Of course this was terrific, but RW byline made me question if it was really Saturday. A hearty 2nd to JD's \"frabjous day\"2nd time recently I got hit with a TWEEDLE/DEE/DUM/EALOA. Any way to tell them apartZOOM for meeting setting (as opposed to MUTE, the Zoom setting option) led to AZTEC for the Musandam Peninsula dweller. Did Rex ever settle on a term for right answer/wrong space Zoom and din/YAP muddled up the NE, giving me Incan in the Aztec spot and doubt for BIONICS. It sorted out easily at the end.NOPRoblemo fit so well, the pidgeons not only got a LEDGE, but the whole LoDGE.Turns out I'm an older Xer: same wheelhouse experience as Rex. The tentpole shows and movies from back then were unavoidable, and my kids could have answered all of these, except maybe BIONICS. My heart sinks thinking about the horror in their household with the cherished Jamie Summers doll present melting on Xmas day. To think now about all the heavily marketed plastic stuff we pestered our parents for...at least the Bionic man came with a giant button in his back that would lift his arm, and a glass eye you could look through. And that weird rubber skin you could pull back to show the bionics underneath, at which point the skin would tear and hang loose forevermore.BIONICS was such specific PPP, I thought it had to be wrong. 6 Million Dollars now might get you a heart stint and associated recovery.
Another DNF. That's two in a row. Good grief!In a million zillion years I never would have thought of MUTE as a \"modern meeting setting.\" Never. I'm a Zoom washout -- having tried 7 different times, with 5 different hosts, for 7 different purposes, to get in/participate/be seen -- and having failed in 7 entirely different ways each time. And now I'm a \"never again\" Zoom attendee.I also know absolutely nothing about Steve Austin and Jaime Sommers nor their TV characters, so I wrote in BIOpICS for their \"tech\". I've never heard of BIONICS. And this led to...OApI for the peninsula dweller. Aha! OKAPI!!! Well, why not, I thought.Oh, but what to do about kUTE for the \"modern meeting setting\" I looked KUTE up, but it didn't exist. Well maybe it was a kute new way of saying \"meet cute\"So another epic fail. I've used up so much space on my mistakes that I've left very little time for some of the marquee clue/answers in the puzzle: MATINEE; OOZE; and DORMS. (If you were a Zoom veteran, I suppose you could say MUTE, too.) But unlike most Weintraub puzzles, this one was chockful of things and terms I didn't know: \"jughandle\"; USE THE FORCE; EASTER EGGS in the software sense. A real bear of a puzzle for me -- but I was kept enthralled throughout and kept thinking that with enough determination I'd finish it. Alas, it was not to be. I blame you, Zoom!
Tree dwellers need vertical space. These are the cats that like to jump up on counters, sit on top of the refrigerator, climb curtains or bookshelves. Bush dwellers, on the other hand, prefer to stay low to the ground. They tend to seek out spots that are hidden, such as under an end table, or even under the sofa or bed.
Although we still have a lot to learn, cat behavior is a topic that is becoming increasingly studied and understood. One interesting theory is the tree dweller or bush dweller theory. The question of which type of plant a feline friend identifies with can help us to better understand cat personalities.
The plains-dweller, Homo campis fabricatus, (also known as the grassland-dweller or migrant) is a dark-colored, troll-like species of human in 500 years (the 25th Century), engineered from Andlas, that fills in the niches left behind by grassland-dwelling hoofed mammals, from Man After Man: An Anthropology of the Future.
A human engineered to live on open grasslands needs the adaptations of a grass-eating nonhuman mammal. For the plains-dweller these include massive teeth that are replaced if they wear out chewing tough silica-rich grasses and, more importantly, a specialized stomach within the bloated abdomen containing engineered bacteria that can break down cellulose (a substance not normally digestible by the human frame). Cutting edges on the hands help to scythe the thick grass while the long legs enable the creature to move swiftly over the open landscape.
The hazy grassland stretches away, green and yellow, to infinity, and a herd of grazing plains-dwellers moves gracefully across it. There are about 20 of them, the adults moving along on the outside of the group, with the youngsters in the center. This is some sort of instinctive arrangement, serving no real purpose, as there are no dangerous animals to defend against. They have no real speech, these creatures, since all their needs are simple and amply met. Food grows all around, there are no enemies, and they have the companionship of their own kind.
Towering clouds are building up overhead. The plains-dwellers are aware, but only dimly, that conditions are changing from year to year. There seems to be more rain than there used to be, but this is no problem. It only means that the grass (their food) grows more prolifically. It also means that new types of plants are beginning to grow: saplings that will develop into bushes and trees. Still, there will be plenty of grass left for them.
As they move slowly through the waving leaves and stems, they become aware of a distant humming noise. Looking up, their leader sees an oval spiky shape floating above the horizon away to one side. Such things go over now and again, but they have no effect on the plains-dwellers, who barely notice them.
Larn strides across the grassy plains at the head of his tribe. Not far off he sees a thicket of bushes and thorn trees that he does not trust. Another group of plains-dwellers met danger at such a clump not long ago when a pack of some new kind of animal burst from within, taking them by surprise, and killing three of their number before the rest could escape.
Larn had thought about this incident for some time, and it made him uneasy. He had noticed that the other animals, the little animals of the grassy plains, had their enemies. There was always strife and death in the undergrowth, but not for the plains-dwellers. He had always assumed that this was because the plains-dwellers were the largest creatures around. They had no enemies. The plains were theirs, and theirs alone.
As a result the populations of plains-dwellers are growing and growing. As a lad, Larn could remember travelling with his tribe for days on end, and not meeting any others. Now other tribes are seen daily, and each one seems to be becoming bigger and bigger.
In one part of his mind Larn feels pride at this; his people are the masters of this landscape, and they should spread and fill it. Another, quieter part of him rebels, however. If there are more and more plains-dwellers as time goes by, will there always be enough grass to feed them all
Then he comes across a horrible sight. One of the old females lies dead, her throat torn. Over her stands a hideous and misshapen, yet strangely familiar, figure. It is almost like a plains-dweller, but it does not have the long legs, its belly is not so round and its teeth are not so massive. These must be the strange new creatures that have moved onto the plains.
Plenty of fruit is available in the tropical treetops, so there is nothing to worry about here. Like the extinct monkeys and nonhuman apes, the tropical tree-dweller (he has not the wit to consider himself as an individual let alone as a being with a name) climbs the vertical trunk through the luminous green of the leafy canopy, and scampers four-footed along a broad bough, forking onto a thinner branch and finally along slender waving twigs to reach the point where the bunches of fruit dangle invitingly. Hanging upside-down now, he reaches outwards with his narrow prehensile fingers and delicately pries the bunch free from its stalk. Some fruits drop off, falling with a fading plop, plop through the layers of leaves and twigs below, away to the forest depths. These are immediately forgotten, as he has secured enough for his needs.
The lost fruits, dented and bruised by their fall through the branches, at last thump softly down into the decaying plant matter of the forest soil. A group of gaunt long-legged plains-dwellers, uneasy and out of place in this strange environment, but driven from their grasslands by increasing cold and ravening packs of wild creatures, starts at the sudden noise. Then, when they see the fruit that has fallen, all four of them pounce upon it, scratching and tearing at one another in their attempts to reach it first.
It is in the far north and the far south that the ice age is causing its havoc. Fluctuating ice sheets and glaciers, together with unstable weather patterns, are forcing highland middle-latitude inhabitants to resort to drastic measures and changes in lifestyle just in order to continue living, and encouraging genetic changes in body and mind that could not have endured if the environment had remained constant and unchanging. Here, in the tropical forest, however, things have not altered for thousands of years. The tropical tree-dwellers have a constant supply of fruit and insects in their leafy canopies, so there is no need for them to move to new areas or to change in any way.
The grasses thrived under the old conditions. Their tops were shriveled off by the Sun, grazed away by animals and burned by periodic bushfires, but they survived because of their protected underground stems, and grew again from ground level. Few trees or bushes flourished under these conditions, but the plains-dwellers also did well here. Their exclusive diet of grass meant that they could live here where no other large creature lived. They could spend the dry seasons in the thorn thickets that bordered the grasslands and separated them from the humid tropical forests of the Equator, and they migrated out over the grasslands proper during the wet season, feeding as they went. Other large creatures could not cope with this existence. 59ce067264
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