Fun with Liquid Nitrogen

So, the Paleozoic era is drawing to a close. The final period of the Paleozoic era is the Permian period, which is one of my favorites. I hope I’m not giving too much away if I tell you that the Permian period does not end well. But we won’t worry about that just yet.

Let’s see, back in the Permian we had Pangaea and Panthalassa- one big land mass and one big ocean. And the Permian brought about the first primitive trees, among them my favorite- the gingko. Angiosperms weren’t to come for many more millions of years, but who needs prissy flowers, anyway?

As far as the fauna goes, the impression I get of the Permian from my beloved childhood dinosaur books (the overwhelming inspiration for this series in the first place) is that the Permian was crawling with both reptile-like tetrapods with sails on their backs, and loads and loads of ill-proportioned amphibians, often with really funny-looking heads.

This impression I gathered of the Permian was strengthened by my visits to the Harvard Museum of Natural History, which has, in addition to a well-preserved coelacanth, a fine collection of funny-headed Permian amphibian fossils.

So I knew that I couldn’t do a Permian portrait without featuring one of these amphibians, especially since this may be the only amphibian of the entire series. I even knew which one I wanted to do- but what was it called? Its head was more memorable than its name, so I was unsuccessful in several early attempts to Google the creature I was looking for. Finally I typed in “amphibian boomerang head” and dozens of images of my desired featured amphibian showed themselves.

Diplocaulus really did look like this! It was a big ol’ 1-meter salamander with a ridiculous head. It probably did pretty much the same things that any salamander of today does- swam around, ate insects (though not a huge insect like the meganeura, seeing as Megan was both huge and extinct by the time the Permian rolled around), laid a mass of jelly-like eggs and had amplexus (also depressingly known as “pseudocopulation”) instead of sex. Really there’s not much to the life of a salamander, though that does not make them any less lovable. I had a tiger salamander as a pet when I was ten and I loved him. The best thing about all salamanders is that when they’re viewed from head-on, their mouths take on the shape of a perpetual smile. What’s not to love?

Some amphibians also have another semi-mythological quality about them- their skin exudes toxins. Most famously the marine toad (Bufo marinus) secretes a charmingly-named poison called bufotenin that is similar in chemical structure to the hallucinogenic psilocin. Disappointingly, however, licking a marine toad is more likely to make the licker violently ill or violently dead.

Just as Jurassic Park took some creative liberty by suggesting that Dilophosaurus spit blinding poison at its prey, I’m going out on a limb here to say that Diplocaulus shared that trait with modern amphibians that secrete bufotoxins, only Diplocaulus-licking didn’t result in convulsions or death. Just pretty Jackie O-like kaleidoscopic vision.

Oh, and the head? What’s the purpose of that foolish looking thing? Theory one says it acted as a hydrofoil, enabling Diplocaulus to zoom merrily through the pink and black swirly water. Theory two says that a huge head makes it harder for Diplocaulus to slide effortlessly down a predator’s throat. That seems kind of silly to me- wouldn’t it have occurred to even a primitive predator that the best way to slide that thing down one’s throat would be to simply tear it into juicy psychedelic bite-sized hunks?

Theory three has merit- it’s so Dipocaulus can rock out. Diplocaulus is after all, the drummer for the most famed metal band of the Paleozoic era, Tiktäalika.

Credit: Ainsley S

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