When you click on links to various merchants on this site and make a purchase, this can result in this site earning a commission. Affiliate programs and affiliations include, but are not limited to, the eBay Partner Network.
This thread is useless without recipe for cannabutter and "dark chocolate".
Assuming all previous steps are performed perfectly, does an eater experience the intended side effects if they do not allow the brownies to cool completely before slicing & consuming?
Step 5 is my typical final step when making white brownies.
This thread is useless without recipe for cannabutter and "dark chocolate".
Assuming all previous steps are performed perfectly, does an eater experience the intended side effects if they do not allow the brownies to cool completely before slicing & consuming?
Step 5 is my typical final step when making white brownies.
All this talked of baked goods reminds me of a specific moment in my youth.
This was during my early teen years, when I was first starting to get into deep reading about the sociological side of computer science, telephony, security, and so on. Hacker stuff, essentially. Nonfiction works describing the exploits of the early pioneers of modern communications and modern electronic fraud. These were serious, substantive books, hundreds of pages in length and hard-bound, which did not help a 12 year old boy "fit in" with the cool kids when seen with his nose buried in it during lunchtime at middle school.
I'd recently finished Steven Levy's seminal 1984 anthology Hackers, and had just acquired a new one, Clifford Stoll's The Cuckoos Egg, via inter-library loan. This was the 1980s, when you could fill out a paper form to request a book which your local library system didn't own, they'd track it down from some other library in the state and have it shipped to them, then they'd send you a post card in the mail saying that your book was ready for pick up. The process usually took 3-4 weeks.
Anyway, I'm devouring this amazing autobiographical tale of an eccentric astronomer-turned-mainframe-administrator who notices a 25 cent imbalance in the accounting records of the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory's computing center and winds up involved in a multi-year hunt for an international spy ring using teenage hackers and phone phreaks in central and eastern Europe to steal US government secrets for the Soviet Union. This is all 100% true and non-embellished. The book was published in 1989, and it provides a fascinating glimpse into the early days of computer security and the internet.
Written in a narrative style, with Stoll describing his investigation in detail, the book is extremely fascinating for a geek as Stoll does not shy away from all the technical aspects of how he tracked down the hacker and the legal and political challenges he faced. The story is a page-turner, with Stoll describing the tension and excitement he felt as he closed in on the hacker in a very effective style that really brings us in. Indeed, one of the strengths of the book is Stoll’s ability to explain complex technical concepts in a way that is easy to understand. Cliff provides a detailed and insightful look into the inner workings of computer systems and networks, and the methods that hackers used to gain access to them. He also provides a sobering reminder of the importance of cybersecurity and the potential consequences of ignoring it, as well as how heavy bureaucracy can easily jeopardize it. But besides the technical accounts, the book is also noteworthy for the way Stoll describes the human element of the story, the people he worked with, the hacker and the government officials involved in the case. He paints a vivid picture of the characters and their motivations and the way they interacted with each other.
And then in the middle of this amazing true-life spy novel, on page 155 to be exact, the author describes coming home after a very exhausting day at the lab and baking some cookies for his fiancée Martha. And, like a true academic, he then includes a FOOTNOTE containing the cookie recipe.
This thread is useless without recipe for cannabutter and "dark chocolate".
Assuming all previous steps are performed perfectly, does an eater experience the intended side effects if they do not allow the brownies to cool completely before slicing & consuming?
Step 5 is my typical final step when making white brownies.
You can stop at step 5 and experience the intended side effects. I watched a lady at a hostel once clean out the left over batter in a bowl after brownies were poured. About 45 minutes later she was sitting on the kitchen counter eating raw vegetables. .Everyone else was still waiting on the brownies to be cool enough to eat.
All this talked of baked goods reminds me of a specific moment in my youth....
...I have plagiarized snippets of material from these two pages in the composition of this post:
Holy Cow! I read the Cuckoo's Egg back when I was in my 20s - I've always been more of a sci-fi/fantasy reader so it was Absolutely Remarkable that I read and really enjoyed a non-fiction book. I ultimately ended up working in the IT field with an emphasis on cybersecurity (although not to the degree the professionals nowadays have) so this book ended up being surprisingly relevant in some ways. A really good read, and if I recall correctly the part where the author and the NSA fellow were swapping puzzles gave me a question I happily plagiarized for every job interview I've conducted since. Nowadays folks can just google the answer, but back in the day it was a really great puzzle.
Inter-Library Loans (ILLs), wow, that triggered the memory banks.
As a child my reading was pretty advanced, and as a country kid, in late primary school I was allowed out to go to the town's public library at lunchtime. I had talked my way into the adult section, and discovered ILLs when asking for a book they didn't hold. In hindsight, I suppose it was pretty bold, but this kid in short pants coming in with a scrawled piece of paper with the title of a book I wanted did get some new librarians giving me funny looks, and querying my access, but I got the books and didn't care about the rest. It makes me wonder now what trail/s I was on, and particularly where/how they started - this was the late 50s, no internet, maybe newspapers.
A really good read, and if I recall correctly the part where the author and the NSA fellow were swapping puzzles gave me a question I happily plagiarized for every job interview I've conducted since.
Indeed.
Stoll really is an excellent storyteller, despite being batshit crazy. In particular, he did an excellent job, over the course of the whole book, of narrating his own personal journey from starting out as a blindly anti-establishment Berkeley hippy and then gradually discovering that the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA are all made up of real people, many of whom are top graduates in math and science fields, who genuinely want to keep America, and Americans, safe.
Don't get me wrong, this is not hero-worship. Stoll fell into the trap of "expert on one thing must mean expert on all things." He really did some truly pioneering work in the field of infosec before there was even a term to describe it, and so the media latched onto him as an expert on all things relating to computers and society, at a time when "The Information Superhighway" was just starting to enter the public dialogue.
Stoll was famously pessimistic about the relationship between computers and society, and in one particularly noteworthy Newsweek article in Feb 1995, he famously predicted that:
"No online database will replace your daily newspaper"
"No computer network will change the way government works"
"Try reading a book on disc. At best, it's an unpleasant chore: the myopic glow of a clunky computer replaces the friendly pages of a book. And you can't tote that laptop to the beach. Yet Nicholas Negroponte, director of the MIT Media Lab, predicts that we'll soon buy books and newspapers straight over the Intenet. Uh, sure."
My second-favorite is where he predicted that e-commerce was totally unfeasible:
"Then there's cyberbusiness. We're promised instant catalog shopping—just point and click for great deals. We'll order airline tickets over the network, make restaurant reservations and negotiate sales contracts. Stores will become obselete. So how come my local mall does more business in an afternoon than the entire Internet handles in a month? Even if there were a trustworthy way to send money over the Internet—which there isn't—the network is missing a most essential ingredient of capitalism: salespeople."
That last part in particular, where he decries the fact that "the network is missing a most essential ingredient of capitalism: salespeople" is especially revealing of his stance as a Luiddite; I would posit that the removal of salespeople from the transaction was a key feature in most people embracing e-commerce in its heyday.
But the absolute best, or perhaps worst, is this:
"What's missing from this electronic wonderland? Human contact. Discount the fawning techno-burble about virtual communities. Computers and networks isolate us from one another. A network chat line is a limp substitute for meeting friends over coffee. No interactive multimedia display comes close to the excitement of a live concert. And who'd prefer cybersex to the real thing? While the Internet beckons brightly, seductively flashing an icon of knowledge-as-power, this nonplace lures us to surrender our time on earth. A poor substitute it is, this virtual reality where frustration is legion and where—in the holy names of Education and Progress—important aspects of human interactions are relentlessly devalued."
I mean... he's not wrong.
But think consider two facts:
For one, a lack of human contact has become the norm for an entire generation. Your average 15 year old thinks that calling someone by voice (rather than texting) is rude. Given the choice between scrolling through TicTok or "meeting friends over coffee", the millennial generation have made their preference pretty clear. "And who'd prefer cybersex to the real thing?", well, we all know the answer to that one. Despite the fact that I wish I didn't.
And for two, "A poor substitute it is, this virtual reality where frustration is legion and where—in the holy names of Education and Progress—important aspects of human interactions are relentlessly devalued." Again, I'm afraid that Stoll failed to see the true potential for evil of the networks which he was helping to create. Relentlessly devaluating human interaction has become one of the largest sectors of the global economy, in terms of algorithmically steering each individual towards a bespoke, AI-tailored stream of vapid and unending anti-information, and then commoditizing their biometric and demographic information.
So.... yeah. Nobody's perfect.
But then, how many retired astrophysicists have a side business selling immersed, boundary-free, nonorientable, one-sided surfaces?
My second-favorite is where he predicted that e-commerce was totally unfeasible:
"Then there's cyberbusiness. We're promised instant catalog shopping—just point and click for great deals. We'll order airline tickets over the network, make restaurant reservations and negotiate sales contracts. Stores will become obselete. So how come my local mall does more business in an afternoon than the entire Internet handles in a month? Even if there were a trustworthy way to send money over the Internet—which there isn't—the network is missing a most essential ingredient of capitalism: salespeople."
That last part in particular, where he decries the fact that "the network is missing a most essential ingredient of capitalism: salespeople" is especially revealing of his stance as a Luiddite; I would posit that the removal of salespeople from the transaction was a key feature in most people embracing e-commerce in its heyday.
While the lack of having to deal with a "salesman" certainly helped drive ecommerce, I believe 2 other factors helped more: 1. the drive to make profits also drives what and how many of anything a company has on it's shelves. Once companies surrendered the inventory levels then Bezos/Amazon took over. How many times have you gone into Home Depot, where the plumbing "expert" really is just a recently retired accountant and be told, we don't stock that but we can get it... My reaction is usually hell I can get it... and 2. Access to information. The internet has opened the world, and the users, to literally anything you want to know if you care to take the time to find it and fact check it.
Originally Posted by Joe Perez
But the absolute best, or perhaps worst, is this:
"What's missing from this electronic wonderland? Human contact. Discount the fawning techno-burble about virtual communities. Computers and networks isolate us from one another. A network chat line is a limp substitute for meeting friends over coffee. No interactive multimedia display comes close to the excitement of a live concert. And who'd prefer cybersex to the real thing? While the Internet beckons brightly, seductively flashing an icon of knowledge-as-power, this nonplace lures us to surrender our time on earth. A poor substitute it is, this virtual reality where frustration is legion and where—in the holy names of Education and Progress—important aspects of human interactions are relentlessly devalued."
For one, a lack of human contact has become the norm for an entire generation. Your average 15 year old thinks that calling someone by voice (rather than texting) is rude. Given the choice between scrolling through TicTok or "meeting friends over coffee", the millennial generation have made their preference pretty clear. "And who'd prefer cybersex to the real thing?", well, we all know the answer to that one. Despite the fact that I wish I didn't.
It's not just your average 15 yr old... I'm 73 and frankly much prefer to have someone just send me a text or email if they're answering a question. I won't answer a phone if it's not someone in my contact list and I won't put you in there if you don't have a legit reason.
Originally Posted by Joe Perez
And for two, "A poor substitute it is, this virtual reality where frustration is legion and where—in the holy names of Education and Progress—important aspects of human interactions are relentlessly devalued." Again, I'm afraid that Stoll failed to see the true potential for evil of the networks which he was helping to create. Relentlessly devaluating human interaction has become one of the largest sectors of the global economy, in terms of algorithmically steering each individual towards a bespoke, AI-tailored stream of vapid and unending anti-information, and then commoditizing their biometric and demographic information
The evening of October 9th, 1992 unfolded like the cold open of a Stranger Things episode. A mild but unremarkable autumn Friday in the Northeast. In hundreds of East Coast towns and cities, football fans cheered on high school teams as mid-season games approached halftime. Suddenly, crowds’ attention shifted away from the on-field action as a “huge greenish fireball” – as bright as a full moon – streaked across the night sky, visible from North Carolina to New York, a long tail of bright sparks chasing in its wake. Quick-thinking dads hearts suddenly raced as they trained their VHS-C camcorders at the unexpected light show as the fiery flying object arced overhead for nearly ten full seconds in some locations – far too long, too bright, too green to be a shooting star.
At 207 Wells Street in Peekskill, NY, across the street from the school district offices, 18-year-old Michelle Knapp was cozy on her parents’ living room sofa, watching TV with her boyfriend when they heard what sounded “like a three car crash” outside the modest two story home. Frightened by the noise, Knapp called Peekskill Police, who responded and discovered the right rear corner of the teenager’s 1980 Chevy Malibu had been heavily damaged. The first police report speculated the damage was “criminal mischief by a very strong male”, according to the Peekskill Herald’s original coverage.
Michelle Knapp with her car in 1992. Photo by Stan Gitner, courtesy of Frank Goderre
But soon Knapp noticed a sulfurous odor coming from the smashed car, and “a football sized rock in a six inch crater” that was “hot to the touch” on the ground beneath its bumper, per a 1992 NY Times article. The following day, a pair of Columbia geology professors connected the dots with dozens of reported sightings up and down the East Coast, and soon the “Peekskill Meteorite” was considered one of the most significant meteorite events of modern times because of the number of eyewitness sightings, over a dozen video captures, and the fact that the celestial body had impacted a vehicle – something that’s only happened three times in history.
In a photo taken by Rich Huff in 1992 scientist William Menke and Peekskill Police Sgt. Barry Martin examine the car where a meteorite struck.
Knapp, who had bought the Malibu from her grandmother for $400 just weeks prior, soon sold the damaged coupe for $10,000, and the meteorite itself for $50,000 to a group of three collectors. The red Chevy became a celebrity of sorts, having been shipped around the world and displayed in museums in Paris, Munich, New York, Tokyo and beyond.
Peekskill Herald Editor Kathy Daley took this picture of Peekskill Police Sgt. Karl Hoffman with the meteorite.
For a few weeks in October 1992, Peekskill was the center of the world for astronomers and star gazers. “Our phones at the Herald rang off the hook with calls from around the world requesting permission to publish our photos,” recalls Publisher Regina Clarkin.
On the thirtieth anniversary of the Peekskill Meteorite’s arrival, Richard Huff, the Herald photographer who took the photo of the police officer and scientist, recalls: “I remember thinking at the time this kind of stuff doesn’t happen here. We’ve all seen falling stars, but most people never see where they fall. This was a big deal. Was it real? A meteorite? In Peekskill? The damage to the car was significant and clearly was something dropping from above. It was one of those things people had to see. I thought afterward if someone were driving the car or if the wind shifted one way or the other, someone could have been killed. One thing for sure, the meteorite brought Peekskill a new level of fame and continues to be talked about today where it happened and around the world,” said Huff who now works in communications at CBS News.
The Wells Street house today.
Today, 207 Wells has new owners who are probably aware of their famous driveway. A Google Streetview photo shows a man talking to a woman and pointing to the fated spot on the ground, and it’s easy to imagine he’s recalling the day 30 years ago that Peekskill had a real visitor from outer space.
The ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ is a remarkable full body impression ostensibly created by a brown rat (Rattus norvegicus) crossing fresh concrete in Chicago’s Roscoe Village that became a viral sensation. While the public attributed the mark to a brown rat, no formal analysis had been conducted to confirm its identity. Using clear anatomical landmarks, we compared measurements from the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ to eight sympatric rodent species using univariate and multivariate analyses. Univariate tests showed no significant differences in snout-to-tail length, head width, tail-base width or third digit length between the imprint and members of the genus Sciurus (i.e. tree squirrels). Discriminant function analysis indicated a 98.67% likelihood that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was a squirrel, with classifications split between the eastern grey squirrel (50.67%) and the fox squirrel (48.00%). Given local population densities, an eastern grey squirrel likely represents the most parsimonious species-level match. This investigation underscores the challenges of attributing a trace to the tracemaker. While we acknowledge the playful spirit of this investigation, our broader aim is to highlight that scientific inquiry begins with curiosity and observation: qualities that are not exclusive to professional scientists, but accessible to anyone with an interest in understanding the natural world.
1. Introduction
The ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ (figure 1), located originally in the Roscoe Village neighbourhood in Chicago, Illinois, became a viral sensation after comedian and writer Winslow Dumaine tweeted about its presence in early 2024 1–3. This seemingly ordinary sidewalk hole quickly inspired a wave of visitors who made pilgrimages to the site, leaving offerings like coins, flowers, figurines and even medication 1,4. Though the hole had existed for 20–30 years, it rapidly became a local icon, with a nearby softball team adopting the rat as its mascot. The hole was named ‘Splatatouille’ after a public naming contest, and despite being removed in April 2024, it remains a piece of Chicago folklore, marked by a plaque from the Riot Fest Historical Society 1–3. Following its removal by the Chicago Department of Transportation in April 2024, the slab was transported to the City Hall-County Building, where it currently resides.
Figure 1. Comparative analysis of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ specimen (A), represented by the dark red dot in each graph. Lines extending from the dot indicate the standard deviation associated with measurement error across multiple photographs. In each plot, snout-to-tail length (STL) is shown on the x-axis, while a different morphological variable (B–G) is plotted on the y-axis using raw measurements. Bracketed lines link each bivariate plot to the specific reference measurement. Across all graphs, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ consistently overlaps with the Eastern grey squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis; yellow), fox squirrel (Sciurus niger; green) and muskrat (Ondatra zibethicus; dark blue). Photo of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was taken by Winslow Dumaine and released under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0). The Wikimedia Foundation has confirmed permission via Volunteer Response Team ticket no. 2024011910008464.
From a scientific perspective, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ represents a remarkable modern full-body impression 5. Full-body impressions are shallow, highly detailed imprints made by animals while alive or peri-mortem, typically preserved in soft sediment. In this instance, the tracemaker itself was not preserved but instead left behind a finely detailed impression in the surrounding substrate, offering a rare neoichnological analogue for interpreting trace-producing behaviours 6. With such remarkable preservation, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was named based on the assumption that the original imprint-maker was an unfortunate brown rat (Rattus norvegicus), a species quite common in urban centres, that met its end soon after a fresh layer of sidewalk concrete was poured [1–4. While the taxonomic attribution of this imprint is not without validity, considering the commonality of brown rats in the region where the imprint was cast and the overall rodent-like appearance of the impression 4, no alternative hypothesis testing was conducted to rule out other possibilities. Therefore, this attribution was not based on the proper application of the scientific method, potentially obscuring both the identification of the true tracemaker and the historical context that led to its deposition.
In this study, we test the hypothesis that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ is truly attributable to a brown rat, or whether another sympatric species is a more likely tracemaker. To test this, we compare a series of linear measurements derived from anatomically identifiable landmarks on photographs of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ (figure 1) and compare them to measurements collected from museum specimens of commonly observed tetrapod taxa in the Chicago area. These data not only reveal the identity of the tracemaker behind the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ but also serve as a neontological exemplar of the challenges in assigning taxonomic classification to full body impressions 5. Additionally, they provide a tool for promoting the excitement of scientific exploration by making the scientific method accessible, engaging and relevant to a modern public audience.
2. Material and methods
(a) Potential tracemakers
To identify the potential tracemaker responsible for the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’, we first isolated tetrapod species occurring within Chicago, Illinois, using iNaturalist 7,8. Entire lineages could be dismissed based on readily distinguishable characteristics (e.g. the presence of four morphologically similar limbs excludes birds and snakes, while the presence of a tail excludes virtually all anurans and turtles), leaving mammals as the most likely candidates for the impression. iNaturalist 7,8 currently lists 37 mammalian species observed within Chicago. Most species can be further ruled out based on either rarity of occurrence (e.g. feral hogs and Mongolian jirds) or distinguishing characteristics such as the imprint’s lack of wings (i.e. bats), size (e.g. deer, coyotes, beavers, domestic dogs, cats and groundhogs) and the presence of a long tail (i.e. lagomorphs and moles).
The most distinguishing feature of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ for broad-scale taxonomic identification is the number of digits. The impression clearly shows five clawed digits on the hindpaw, while the forepaw displays only four. This pattern is consistent with rodents in which the pollex is greatly reduced compared to the other digits 9,. Based on these observations, the primary potential tracemakers among local species include the brown rat (R. norvegicus), house mouse (Mus musculus), Eastern grey squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), Eastern chipmunk (Tamias striatus), muskrat (Ondatra zibethicus), white-footed mouse (Peromyscus leucopus), fox squirrel (Sciurus niger) and Southern flying squirrel (Glaucomys volans).
(b) Anatomical measurements
To identify the taxonomic identity of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole,’ we first isolated clear anatomical landmarks for use in linear measurements. The animal’s positioning during deposition limited measurements to snout-to-tail base length (STL), forelimb length (FL), third digit length (D3L), hindpaw length (HPL), head width (HW), tail base width (TBW) and 2.5 cm from tail base width (2.5 TBW) (figure 1). As we were unable to collect our own photographs or three-dimensional reconstructions of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ prior to the onset of this study, we had to rely on images available on the internet. As almost all these images were captured from imperfect views for measurement purposes, we attempted to account for such measurement error by searching for all available images of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’. We included images that clearly displayed all relevant landmarks and had a visible scale (e.g. coins), resulting in 25 suitable images. We distributed these images to co-authors (M.C.G., G.N.G., C.J.L.), who each collected the seven measurements from every suitable image using ImageJ, resulting in a total of 75 ‘virtual specimens’ used for subsequent statistical testing. We also gathered the same measurements from prepared museum skins (approx. 50 individuals) of each target species. To account for the unknown age of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ tracemaker, we specifically included specimens representing a broad range of body sizes to avoid prematurely dismissing the possibility of the tracemaker being a juvenile or particularly large adult. Individuals from both sexes were also tested, as the sex of the tracemarker was not known.
(c) Statistical testing
To determine the taxonomic identity of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole,’ we conducted a series of statistical analyses using log-transformed morphometric data. All analyses were performed in R 11, using the MASS package 12 for discriminant function analysis (DFA), the Hotelling package 13 for Hotelling’s T²-tests and the stats package 14 for t-tests and principal component analysis (PCA).
We performed independent two-sample t-tests to compare the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ specimen against each known species for every morphological variable. These tests assessed whether the unknown specimen differed significantly in raw trait values from individual species. No interspecific comparisons among the known species were conducted, as the objective was not to evaluate species-level differences within the dataset. Accordingly, no post-hoc corrections were applied. In addition, we plotted linear regressions between each log-transformed morphological variable and log-transformed STL. These regressions served an illustrative purpose rather than a statistical test; their primary goal was to visualize absolute size similarities between the unknown specimen and potential matches.
We performed PCA on the log-transformed morphometric dataset to identify major axes of morphological variation and reduce dimensionality. This approach allowed us to visualize how traits co-varied across specimens and where the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ specimen fell within this multivariate space. PCA provided a useful framework for intuitively assessing its morphological similarity or divergence relative to known taxa.
To further assess inter-species differences, we conducted a DFA using all log-transformed variables to determine whether the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ occupied a distinct region of the morphospace. All specimens were included in a single DFA to generate discriminant axes that maximally separated known species based on morphology. We then performed post-hoc pairwise comparisons between the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ and each known species using Hotelling’s T²-tests. No pairwise comparisons were made among the known species. To assess how the model reclassifies the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’, a dropped group analysis was conducted, where the model was trained without data from the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ and then predicted the species using the withheld data. To assess individualized differences between the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ and the eight selected species, another Hotelling’s T2 test was used to determine the degree of difference of centroid means between the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ and the other comparative local species. A larger T2 value indicates larger differences between centroid means.
3. Results
Utilizing log-transformed variables and t-tests, Eastern grey squirrels showed no significant difference from the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ specimen in STL (p = 0.599). Muskrats were not significantly different in HW (p = 0.438) and 2.5 TBW (p = 0.476). Fox squirrels also showed no significant differences in D3L (p = 0.781) and 2.5 TBW (p = 0.096). All other species and variables differed significantly from the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ specimen (p < 0.05) (figure 1 and electronic supplementary material, table S1).
Results from the PCA revealed strong morphological separation among species, with the first two principal components explaining 92.4% of the total variance (PC1 = 89.1%, PC2 = 3.3%; figure 2). Principal component 1 reflected overall size variation, with all variables contributing negatively and relatively equally (loadings ranging from −0.37 to −0.39). As such, species positioned on the left side of the morphospace tend to be larger across all measured traits, while those on the right are relatively smaller. Principal component 2 captured shape variation, particularly contrasting FL (loading = 0.50) and tail base width (loading = −0.74). Species located higher along principal component 2 exhibit relatively elongated forelimbs and narrower tail bases, whereas those lower on principal component 2 have broader tail bases and shorter forelimbs. The ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ falls in the centre-left region of the morphospace, clustering most closely with muskrats, Eastern grey squirrels and fox squirrels (electronic supplementary material, table S2).
Figure 2. Results of the principal component analysis (A) and discriminant function analysis (B) performed on the full dataset, using log-transformed morphological measurements. The morphospace is plotted along the first two principal components (PC1 and PC2), which together capture 92.4% of the total variance (A) and first two linear discriminant functions, which together capture 86.4% of the between group variance (B). Points represent individual observations projected on the first two principal components (A) and linear discriminants (B).
Results from the DFA (figure 2) further confirmed strong morphological separation among species. Seven discriminant functions were produced, with function 1 accounting for 75.68% of the variance (eigenvalue = 1497.72; canonical r = 38.70), and function 2 accounting for 10.73% of the variance (eigenvalue = 212.31; canonical r = 14.57). Wilks’ lambda was significant (Λ = 1.74 × 10-13; d.f. = 7; χ² = 13838.51; p < 0.001), demonstrating significant differences between the eight species and the “Chicago Rat Hole’ (electronic supplementary material, tables S34). Classification accuracy was 93.54% (cross-validation = 92.92%). Further evaluating the loadings, Hotelling’s T-squared distribution showed the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ centroid was closest in distribution to Eastern grey squirrels (T2 = 794.82; p < 0.001), muskrats (T2 = 1,652.69 l; p < 0.001) and fox squirrels (T2 = 1,830.84; p < 0.001) (figure 3 and electronic supplementary material, table S5). The dropped group analysis reclassified the measurements of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ into the genus Sciurus, with 50.67% classified as Eastern grey squirrels and 48.00% as fox squirrels. One measurement (1.33%) was classified as muskrats (electronic supplementary material, table S6).
Figure 3. Density plots showing the first linear discriminant function (LD1) comparing the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ (dark red) to each comparative species (A–H). All Hotelling’s T2-values are statistically significant (all p-values < 0.001).
Taken together, these results suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ most closely resembles the Eastern grey squirrel, fox squirrel or muskrat. Although the specimen was statistically distinct from all known species in multivariate space (figure 3 and electronic supplementary material, table S5), select univariate comparisons revealed no significant differences in key traits—specifically, STL in the Eastern grey squirrel, HW and 2.5 TBW in the muskrat, and D3L and 2.5 TBW in the fox squirrel (electronic supplementary material, table S1). These findings are further supported by the PCA, where the specimen occupies a central position overlapping with the same three species (figure 2A), the DFA (figure 2B), which yielded the lowest Hotelling’s T² values in comparisons with them (figure 3), and the dropped group analysis, which reclassified the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ mostly into the genus Sciurus (electronic supplementary material, table S6).
Our analyses offer little support for the hypothesis that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was made by a brown rat. The specimen’s relatively elongated forelimbs, third digits and hindpaws exceeded the measurement ranges observed in the brown rat. Instead, the data point to a closer resemblance with large-bodied rodents that exhibit generalized limb and tail proportions. While Eastern grey squirrels, fox squirrels and muskrats all fall within this morphological space, the measurements derived from the impression do not allow for definitive species-level identification.
Given the relative abundance of Eastern grey squirrels in the Chicago area compared to the much rarer fox squirrel or muskrat 8,15, incorporating density-based likelihoods into our interpretation would likely favour Eastern grey squirrels as the most probable identity. Still, our data strongly suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ does not reflect a murid tracemaker. We therefore propose that the specimen be rechristened the ‘Windy City Sidewalk Squirrel’—a name more fitting of its likely origins and more aligned with the evidence at hand.
This study is not the first to suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ may have been created by a squirrel 4. In an interview with NBC Chicago, Dr Seth Magle, Lincoln Park Zoo’s Director of the Urban Wildlife Institute, proposed several factors that better align the maker of the impression with a squirrel. For instance, concrete is typically wet during the day, coinciding with diurnal squirrel activity 16,17. Brown rats, being nocturnal 18, are far less likely to encounter wet concrete at an appropriate time to leave such an impression. Furthermore, Magle 4 noted the absence of other tracks leading to the impression, suggesting that the maker landed from above. There is no evidence in the impression to suggest that the unfortunate tracemaker walked away after its fall. While it is possible that a brown rat was dropped by a bird of prey 19, it is far more likely that a squirrel, despite their agility, misjudged a leap or slipped from a branch and fell, leaving the impression 4. This theory is supported by reports from longtime residents in the area, who noted the former presence of a tree near the location of the impression 4. Falls from heights are quite common for tree squirrels, as evidenced by the high incidence of skeletal markers attributable to fall-related injuries 20. This risk is particularly pronounced for Eastern grey squirrels in urban centres, which are approximately 4.5 times more likely to have healed injuries compared to their rural counterparts 20.
The best argument against the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ being created by a squirrel is the lack of the characteristic bushy-tail in the impression. Observing hair impressions in a full body impression is inherently challenging due to the delicate and ephemeral nature of hair compared to more robust biological structures like bones or scales. Hair lacks the rigidity to create deep, well-defined impressions in substrates, making it less likely to leave discernible traces under typical depositional conditions 21,22. Sidewalk concrete, while capable of capturing impressions due to its initial plasticity, is not an ideal medium for preserving detailed biological features like hair. Concrete typically sets too quickly and lacks the fine-grained texture required to capture intricate details. Fine-grained sediments, such as silts, clays and very fine sand, are the most effective at preserving delicate impressions like hair 23. These sediments provide a soft, pliable surface that can capture intricate details of an organism’s integuments before hardening into rock 23–25. Taken together, it would actually be quite surprising if a bushy tail had been preserved, and this certainly does not provide sufficient evidence to argue against the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ being attributable to a squirrel.
The preservation quality of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ underscores broader challenges in assigning taxonomic identity to full body impressions, even under near-ideal conditions 5,24,26. Despite its distinct outline and clearly defined anatomical regions, and the unusual ability to narrow the tracemaker to one of eight plausible species, we were still only able to extract seven measurable traits and could not resolve its identity beyond the generic level. This outcome, alongside well-documented cases of misclassification in the literature 27–30, reinforces the inherent uncertainty of taxonomic inference from impressions alone. Compounding these challenges are the mechanics of imprint formation, which can distort original morphology 31. As the tracemaker displaces sediment, lateral spreading can enlarge the impression 32, potentially accounting for morphological overlap between species such as the Eastern grey squirrel and the larger-bodied fox squirrel. Moreover, accurately reconstructing the depositional context of a trace impression is often difficult, even in neoichnological examples. For example, in the case of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole,’ it is unclear whether the animal entered the substrate vertically or at an angle—an oblique impact could result in foreshortening of the body, especially if the head contacted the surface before the hindlimbs, thereby distorting anatomical proportions and obscuring key measurements. That even a well-preserved and contextually constrained specimen like the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ resists definitive identification illustrates the limitations of taxonomic resolution using impressions alone. In the absence of direct association between trace and tracemaker 33, caution is warranted when attributing full body impressions to specific taxa. These difficulties are only amplified in palaeontological contexts, where the possible age of a trace fossil may span millions of years, faunal composition is often incompletely known, and original surface morphology may be obscured or lost (e.g. in undertracks), further complicating taxonomic assignment 34.
(a) Implications for scientific engagement
Throughout this article, we have employed traditional morphometric techniques to explore the taxonomic identity of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’. While we, the authors, acknowledge the lighthearted nature of this exercise, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ nonetheless presents meaningful opportunities to promote scientific engagement. The ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ garnered widespread attention on social media 1–3, prompting the public to consider questions such as which species created the imprint and the depositional factors involved in its formation 4. Such curiosity is fundamental to the scientific process. Even though the popular conclusion that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was created by a brown rat is likely incorrect, the public’s reasoning—based on the imprint’s overall shape and the abundance of brown rats in Chicago 4—demonstrates an impressive use of inductive logic that the scientific community should encourage. Moreover, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ fosters connections between urban residents and their non-human neighbours, illustrating that cities are thriving ecosystems where numerous species adapt and survive 35. As Magle 4 aptly stated, ‘I think what it reminds us is that, no matter how deep in the city you live, we all have this deep tie, this need to be connected to nature and other species’.
Given the public’s interest, adapting similar analyses into outreach events 36 appears particularly promising for introducing students to concepts such as urban ecology, ichnofossils and morphometric techniques. We hope this work—in spite of (or perhaps more specifically, because of) its inherent frivolity—resonates with both the public and the scientific community, demonstrating that scientific inquiry does not need to be confined to laboratories or burdened with impenetrable jargon. At its core, science simply requires curiosity and a commitment to understanding the natural world around us.
Ethics
This work did not require ethical approval from a human subject or animal welfare committee.
Data accessibility
All data are made available in Supplemental Data 1.
We have not used AI-assisted technologies in creating this article.
Authors’ contributions
M.C.G.: conceptualization, data curation, formal analysis, investigation, methodology, project administration, resources, supervision, validation, visualization, writing—original draft; G.N.G.: data curation, investigation, methodology, project administration, writing—review and editing; N.D.C.: data curation, formal analysis, validation, writing—original draft; S.J.K.: visualization, writing—review and editing; C.J.L.: investigation, writing—review and editing; E.D.: conceptualization, investigation, project administration, writing—review and editing.
All authors gave final approval for publication and agreed to be held accountable for the work performed therein.
Conflict of interest declaration
We declare we have no competing interests.
Funding
No funding has been received for this article.
Acknowledgements
We thank the Department of Mammalogy at the American Museum of Natural History for their generosity in providing access to their space and specimens. We thank Jolee Murphy and the Center for Biomedical Innovation for supplying materials for our data collection. Finally, we thank Brandon P. Hedrick, Jens N. Lallensack and the two additional anonymous reviewers who offered their expertise during the review process and greatly improved the quality of this work.
Taken together, these results suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ most closely resembles the Eastern grey squirrel, fox squirrel or muskrat. Although the specimen was statistically distinct from all known species in multivariate space (figure 3 and electronic supplementary material, table S5), select univariate comparisons revealed no significant differences in key traits—specifically, STL in the Eastern grey squirrel, HW and 2.5 TBW in the muskrat, and D3L and 2.5 TBW in the fox squirrel (electronic supplementary material, table S1). These findings are further supported by the PCA, where the specimen occupies a central position overlapping with the same three species (figure 2A), the DFA (figure 2B), which yielded the lowest Hotelling’s T² values in comparisons with them (figure 3), and the dropped group analysis, which reclassified the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ mostly into the genus Sciurus (electronic supplementary material, table S6).
Our analyses offer little support for the hypothesis that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was made by a brown rat. The specimen’s relatively elongated forelimbs, third digits and hindpaws exceeded the measurement ranges observed in the brown rat. Instead, the data point to a closer resemblance with large-bodied rodents that exhibit generalized limb and tail proportions. While Eastern grey squirrels, fox squirrels and muskrats all fall within this morphological space, the measurements derived from the impression do not allow for definitive species-level identification.
Given the relative abundance of Eastern grey squirrels in the Chicago area compared to the much rarer fox squirrel or muskrat 8,15, incorporating density-based likelihoods into our interpretation would likely favour Eastern grey squirrels as the most probable identity. Still, our data strongly suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ does not reflect a murid tracemaker. We therefore propose that the specimen be rechristened the ‘Windy City Sidewalk Squirrel’—a name more fitting of its likely origins and more aligned with the evidence at hand.
This study is not the first to suggest that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ may have been created by a squirrel 4. In an interview with NBC Chicago, Dr Seth Magle, Lincoln Park Zoo’s Director of the Urban Wildlife Institute, proposed several factors that better align the maker of the impression with a squirrel. For instance, concrete is typically wet during the day, coinciding with diurnal squirrel activity 16,17. Brown rats, being nocturnal 18, are far less likely to encounter wet concrete at an appropriate time to leave such an impression. Furthermore, Magle 4 noted the absence of other tracks leading to the impression, suggesting that the maker landed from above. There is no evidence in the impression to suggest that the unfortunate tracemaker walked away after its fall. While it is possible that a brown rat was dropped by a bird of prey 19, it is far more likely that a squirrel, despite their agility, misjudged a leap or slipped from a branch and fell, leaving the impression 4. This theory is supported by reports from longtime residents in the area, who noted the former presence of a tree near the location of the impression 4. Falls from heights are quite common for tree squirrels, as evidenced by the high incidence of skeletal markers attributable to fall-related injuries 20. This risk is particularly pronounced for Eastern grey squirrels in urban centres, which are approximately 4.5 times more likely to have healed injuries compared to their rural counterparts 20.
The best argument against the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ being created by a squirrel is the lack of the characteristic bushy-tail in the impression. Observing hair impressions in a full body impression is inherently challenging due to the delicate and ephemeral nature of hair compared to more robust biological structures like bones or scales. Hair lacks the rigidity to create deep, well-defined impressions in substrates, making it less likely to leave discernible traces under typical depositional conditions 21,22. Sidewalk concrete, while capable of capturing impressions due to its initial plasticity, is not an ideal medium for preserving detailed biological features like hair. Concrete typically sets too quickly and lacks the fine-grained texture required to capture intricate details. Fine-grained sediments, such as silts, clays and very fine sand, are the most effective at preserving delicate impressions like hair 23. These sediments provide a soft, pliable surface that can capture intricate details of an organism’s integuments before hardening into rock 23–25. Taken together, it would actually be quite surprising if a bushy tail had been preserved, and this certainly does not provide sufficient evidence to argue against the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ being attributable to a squirrel.
The preservation quality of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ underscores broader challenges in assigning taxonomic identity to full body impressions, even under near-ideal conditions 5,24,26. Despite its distinct outline and clearly defined anatomical regions, and the unusual ability to narrow the tracemaker to one of eight plausible species, we were still only able to extract seven measurable traits and could not resolve its identity beyond the generic level. This outcome, alongside well-documented cases of misclassification in the literature 27–30, reinforces the inherent uncertainty of taxonomic inference from impressions alone. Compounding these challenges are the mechanics of imprint formation, which can distort original morphology 31. As the tracemaker displaces sediment, lateral spreading can enlarge the impression 32, potentially accounting for morphological overlap between species such as the Eastern grey squirrel and the larger-bodied fox squirrel. Moreover, accurately reconstructing the depositional context of a trace impression is often difficult, even in neoichnological examples. For example, in the case of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole,’ it is unclear whether the animal entered the substrate vertically or at an angle—an oblique impact could result in foreshortening of the body, especially if the head contacted the surface before the hindlimbs, thereby distorting anatomical proportions and obscuring key measurements. That even a well-preserved and contextually constrained specimen like the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ resists definitive identification illustrates the limitations of taxonomic resolution using impressions alone. In the absence of direct association between trace and tracemaker 33, caution is warranted when attributing full body impressions to specific taxa. These difficulties are only amplified in palaeontological contexts, where the possible age of a trace fossil may span millions of years, faunal composition is often incompletely known, and original surface morphology may be obscured or lost (e.g. in undertracks), further complicating taxonomic assignment 34.
(a) Implications for scientific engagement
Throughout this article, we have employed traditional morphometric techniques to explore the taxonomic identity of the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’. While we, the authors, acknowledge the lighthearted nature of this exercise, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ nonetheless presents meaningful opportunities to promote scientific engagement. The ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ garnered widespread attention on social media 1–3, prompting the public to consider questions such as which species created the imprint and the depositional factors involved in its formation 4. Such curiosity is fundamental to the scientific process. Even though the popular conclusion that the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ was created by a brown rat is likely incorrect, the public’s reasoning—based on the imprint’s overall shape and the abundance of brown rats in Chicago 4—demonstrates an impressive use of inductive logic that the scientific community should encourage. Moreover, the ‘Chicago Rat Hole’ fosters connections between urban residents and their non-human neighbours, illustrating that cities are thriving ecosystems where numerous species adapt and survive 35. As Magle 4 aptly stated, ‘I think what it reminds us is that, no matter how deep in the city you live, we all have this deep tie, this need to be connected to nature and other species’.
Given the public’s interest, adapting similar analyses into outreach events 36 appears particularly promising for introducing students to concepts such as urban ecology, ichnofossils and morphometric techniques. We hope this work—in spite of (or perhaps more specifically, because of) its inherent frivolity—resonates with both the public and the scientific community, demonstrating that scientific inquiry does not need to be confined to laboratories or burdened with impenetrable jargon. At its core, science simply requires curiosity and a commitment to understanding the natural world around us.
Ethics
This work did not require ethical approval from a human subject or animal welfare committee.
Data accessibility
All data are made available in Supplemental Data 1.
We have not used AI-assisted technologies in creating this article.
Authors’ contributions
M.C.G.: conceptualization, data curation, formal analysis, investigation, methodology, project administration, resources, supervision, validation, visualization, writing—original draft; G.N.G.: data curation, investigation, methodology, project administration, writing—review and editing; N.D.C.: data curation, formal analysis, validation, writing—original draft; S.J.K.: visualization, writing—review and editing; C.J.L.: investigation, writing—review and editing; E.D.: conceptualization, investigation, project administration, writing—review and editing.
All authors gave final approval for publication and agreed to be held accountable for the work performed therein.
Conflict of interest declaration
We declare we have no competing interests.
Funding
No funding has been received for this article.
Acknowledgements
We thank the Department of Mammalogy at the American Museum of Natural History for their generosity in providing access to their space and specimens. We thank Jolee Murphy and the Center for Biomedical Innovation for supplying materials for our data collection. Finally, we thank Brandon P. Hedrick, Jens N. Lallensack and the two additional anonymous reviewers who offered their expertise during the review process and greatly improved the quality of this work.
Goodyear’s Glowing Tires: A Bright Spot In Automotive History
by Phyllis Brown
The 1950s and ’60s were transformative decades that influenced various facets of Western culture: from fast food to rock music, and notably, cars.
Americans embraced automobiles as expressions of their identities, often customizing them for enhanced flair and desirability.
Naturally, when Ohio-based Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co. began experimenting with “the tire of tomorrow,” it captured global attention. In the realm of automotive innovation, some ideas shine brighter than others, quite literally in the case of Goodyear’s glowing tires.
Unveiled in the 1960s, these tires represented a pioneering leap forward, envisioning a future where vehicles could be both safer and visually striking. Come along as we explore the fascinating story of Goodyear’s glowing tires.
Goodyear, a titan in the tire manufacturing industry, has a rich history of innovation. Established in 1898, the company has consistently been at the forefront of tire technology, from introducing the first tubeless tires to developing advanced materials for modern vehicles.
When you think of tire innovation, you might picture new tread patterns, better rubber, or run-flat technology. But Goodyear unveiled what they called “one of the most dramatic tire developments in the history of the industry.”
Goodyear introduced a tire made from Neothane, a synthetic polyurethane rubber. Unlike traditional tires, which needed multiple layers of rubber and fabric, Neothane tires could be poured into molds and baked in a 250 °F (121 °C) oven.
Goodyear claimed this new material combined the hardness of plastic with the flexibility of rubber and “outstanding resistance to abrasive wear, chipping, cutting, and tearing.”
A unique feature of Neothane was its translucency, allowing light to pass through. Making use of this, Goodyear added dye to create bright colors like green, yellow, red, orange, and blue.
Then, they integrated 18 small light bulbs, essentially dash lights, inside the tires, giving them a glowing effect. The outcome was a vividly colored tire adding a unique touch of personal style.
“Goodyear’s translucent tire can be produced in any color to match the car…or perhaps the wife’s new outfit,” remarked Goodyear’s development manager John J. Hartz in 1962. “Someday a wife may tell a husband: ‘Charlie, go out and change the tires. I’m wearing my blue dress tonight.’”
In a 1961 press release, Goodyear envisioned a fashion-forward future for cars: “Once the tires reach the market—and that could happen in a few years—auto stylists may use them to carry out a car’s color scheme, perhaps matching the tires with the upholstery.
And it’s not at all unlikely that milady will want tires that enhance her wardrobe, her hair, or even her eyes. Imagine, if you will, one girl telling another: ‘But, my dear, green tires just don’t do a thing for your complexion.’ When that day comes, it will mean a whole new frontier for the tire designer.”
Practically, the driver could control the tire lights individually or in pairs from a panel near the steering wheel. For instance, one tire could flash while the other remained brightly lit. This allowed the tires to serve as turn signals or brake lights.
The primary purpose of Goodyear’s glowing tires was twofold: to improve safety and add a futuristic touch to vehicles. The enhanced visibility offered by these illuminated tires was seen as a potential lifesaver, especially in bad weather or on dark roads. Additionally, the glowing tires were designed to captivate, presenting a future where cars were not just transportation but also art.
So, what happened to these innovative tires? Despite their initial appeal, the tires weren’t practical. Road driving would quickly cover them in soot, diminishing their illumination. Additionally, the material and design, though visually stunning, did not offer the same level of grip and durability as conventional rubber tires.
This made them less reliable and safe, particularly in rain or on wet roads. Goodyear’s engineers tried to solve these problems; however, the tires still lost traction at speeds over 60 mph, performed poorly in wet weather, and overheated quickly.
Even if they had succeeded, the high cost would have made them unaffordable and impractical for mass production and general consumer use. Representatives from the company stated that the price of an illuminated tire would be almost double that of a premium summer tire.
And yet, there was also concern about the illuminated tires distracting other drivers. The glowing effect, while captivating, could divert attention from the road, increasing the risk of accidents.
Life magazine reported, “Motorists have been so enthralled by the pretty colors that they have gone through red lights or just stopped to stare.” Despite ten years of development, Goodyear eventually abandoned the project. They quietly ended the experiment, and husbands never got the chance to change the tires to match their wives’ outfits.
Goodyear made a splash with its glowing tires by showcasing them in public. They adorned a Dodge Polara in Miami and a Chrysler Silver 300 in Manhattan, turning heads wherever they went. The spectacle captured the imagination of onlookers during the vibrant ’60s era.
Despite the buzz, these tires never hit the market. Instead, Goodyear granted a set to Jim “Street” Skonzakes, a renowned custom car builder. Skonzakes proudly featured them on his $75,000 creation, the futuristic Golden Sahara II, which became an instant hit with the public and even appeared in the 1960s film “Cinderfella.“
The Golden Sahara II itself was a masterpiece, and Goodyear’s glowing tires perfectly matched its futuristic design. This car could be controlled remotely and had four steering options, including an aviation-style system.
It featured a built-in TV, tape deck, electronic doors, a massaging seat, an automated trunk, and glowing tires.Inside, it had 24-carat gold accents and white mink carpeting, exuding luxury. The illuminated Goodyear tires, called “glass” by Skonzakes, were the cherry on the sundae.
Over time, the Golden Sahara II fell into disrepair, but it found new life when Klairmont Kollections acquired it at auction for $350,000. The car underwent a meticulous restoration by Speakeasy Customs, with Goodyear supplying four brand-new translucent tires for the project.
Photos from the restoration process showcased the illuminated tires and the car’s stunning transformation. Despite never being mass-produced, the glowing tires left a lasting impression, especially on the iconic Golden Sahara II.
New diagnosis becoming more common: Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome
Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome (CHS) can affect people who use cannabis (marijuana) long-term. CHS causes frequent, severe nausea and vomiting. Hot baths and showers may temporarily relieve symptoms. But the only way to cure CHS is to stop using cannabis.
...
What is scromiting?
Some people call certain symptoms of CHS "scromiting." The term combines "vomiting" and "screaming." You may have intense pain, which causes you to scream while you vomit.
0
