Dermatology at work in films: the bad guys tend to have bad skin

Q. It’s not exactly an urgent question nor one for polite conversation. But how long does it take an elephant to defecate? A cat? And how about you? A. Based on zoo videos of 23 defecating mammals ranging in weight from just a few pounds to thousands (cats to elephants), Georgia Institute of Technology Ph.D. student Patricia Yang and her colleagues found that the act of defecation takes between 5 and 19 seconds-–a remarkably small range considering the diverse species sampled (“Soft Matter” journal). The researchers also studied the mechanical properties of feces and intestinal mucous and discovered that “the diameter of feces is comparable to that of the rectum, but the length is double that of the rectum.” Their conclusion? Stools are not squeezed out like toothpaste but “slide along the large intestine by a layer of mucous, similar to a sled sliding down a chute.” Larger animals not only have larger stools but also a thicker layer of mucous which speeds expulsion, resulting in a relatively universal duration.

But this research is not frivolous, Yang explains: “Our model accounts for the shorter and longer defecation times associated with diarrhea and constipation, respectively. This study may support clinicians’ use of non-invasive procedures such as defecation time in the diagnoses of ailments of the digestive system.” Q. True or False: “Classic film villains display a statistically significant higher incidence of dermatologic findings than heroes.” A. True. Simply put, lots of bad guys do indeed have bad skin, says Steve Mirsky in “Scientific American” magazine. Drawing from the American Film Institute’s list of the 50 top heroes and 50 top villains, dermatologists Julie Amthor Croley and Richard Wagner analyzed the top 10 members from each list and found that “six of the all-time top ten American film villains (60%) have dermatologic findings, all… located on the face and scalp.” The heroes were free of conspicuous facial flaws.

For example, when villain #3 Darth Vader is finally unmasked, his face displays “’scars on left cheek and scalp vertex, deep rhytides on face, periorbital hyperpigmentation, alopecia.’ In plain English, that’s scars, creases, dark circles around the eyes, hair loss.” On the other hand, hero #3 James Bond (played by Sean Connery) has “virtually perfect skin,” despite a lifestyle marked by alcoholic consumption and exposure to sexually transmitted diseases.

Noting Hollywood’s general depiction of skin disease in an evil context, researchers are concerned that “unfairly targeting dermatologic minorities may contribute to a tendency toward prejudice in our culture and facilitate misunderstanding of particular disease entities among the general public.” Q. These words are gung ho in a literal manner, holding hands and working together, writes Anu Garg on his “A.Word.A.Day” website. You no doubt know the meaning of “ho-hum” (an expression of boredom) and “humbug” (an impostor or fraud). But can you define and explain the origins of “gung ho,” “bear leader” and “bugbear”? A. “Ho-hum” and “humbug” are of unknown origin, explains Garg. “Gung ho,” meaning extremely eager and enthusiastic, originated from “Chinese ‘gonghe’, an acronym from the Gongye Hezuoshi (Chinese Industrial Cooperative Society).” Introduced in 1942 as a training slogan by U.S. Marine Corps officer Evans Carlson, it was interpreted to mean “work together.”

“Bear leader,” a tutor who travels with a young man, is “an allusion to a literal bear leader, a man who led a muzzled bear from place to place to perform in the streets.” Finally, “bugbear” suggests a source of fear, anxiety or a problem. It derives from an imaginary creature used to frighten children, from “bug” (hobgoblin) and Old English “bera” (bright, brown). Earliest documented use is 1552.